


Baby Mine

by ollie911



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drama, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie911/pseuds/ollie911
Summary: Many things were true about Laila. She was stubborn, she was strong, she was adaptable, she was capable of melting her father's icy stone heart with a single smile, she was beautiful, she was everything Loki had. Two thing though even Loki could not deny, she loved him and she trusted him. As long as those two things was true, he would be able to do anything. It was a good thing that the only thing the God of Mischief really wanted was to raise her to have the love he didn't have, because that sort of feeling is the one that can lead a man to conquer the universe.It was a very good thing indeed.





	1. Snow

She was a tiny little thing. It was not his first time laying eyes on a newly born infant nor was it his first time o holding one, but he was marveled by her in so many ways. She was wrinkled, fragile, without a hair atop her head, and small. She was so small. Whilst in his arms the child stirred and cooed, mouth opening to yawn as Loki analyzed her expression as if trying to read her.

He sat beside the child's mother more out of duty than anything else. The woman stared lat them without seeing anything, pale as a sheet and barely holding on to any remnants of life. Loki almost offered her the baby. Almost. Then he realized that if he gave that woman the baby, then who was to tell what would become of it. He blinked at her, not bothering to speak. Wanda had a pair of eyes that he recalled as being some of the most beautiful he had ever seen across his days. They were the color of stalactites under a bright blue sky, and they were breath-taking even behind a vacant stare.

"She killed me." Wanda croaked, hand shaking over the covers of her birthing bed. "And you... you were her accomplice."

She had gone absolutely insane before the child was born. Loki had found her thrashing against the walls of a hospital room and four months pregnant with a child he didn't know was his. It had been Tony Stark of all people who had called him in an act of desperation and against the will of every other member of the team. Thor was nowhere to be found and they did not know how to help her. Physicians had successfully assumed that the fetus was not only causing her physical pain, but that it was also leading her to develop an acute case of dementia. Four separate attempts were made to remove the fetus, all done by some of the most respected Midgardian physicians across the stupid little planet. Each session resulted in objects and humans flying across the room and in one occasion out of a ten story building resulting in the death of two people. This all happened while Wanda was sedated.

Loki understood that she had been driven mad because her body had naturally rejected the pregnancy. No mere human was designed to carry a Jotun child, even if it was one as strong as Wanda. The woman took another look at them, clenched her feeble hand into a fist and rolled over. At this point she stopped breathing. He saw as her chest stopped moving and he understood, thus he stood up and settled the infant on the small white crib he had found for her and walked over to the corpse on the bed.

He buried her that night and tried to think no more of what she had said.

Returning home to a sleeping infant brought him peace of mind, and the home seemed to be much less heavier after Wanda's departure. During the short while when they had been together she was wise beyond her years, gentle, even beautiful. Yet he saw her transform into something awful through the five months that remained of the pregnancy. She hated the child she carried within her, she constantly said it, constantly made Loki know. He couldn't save her, and thus he focused on the welfare of the unborn child. If it died, so would Wanda and nothing would be saved. There were selfish reasons behind it, as Stark had promised him a good word with Thor and amnesty for his crimes. It was far-fetched to think that he would achieve it, but it was worth it. He had no more crimes left to commit.

Now however came the part that he was not expecting. What to do with the babe now that it was here? He could give it to Stark, let him handle it. He thought about this as he headed towards his bedroom when a sudden cry brought him to his senses. It came from the bedroom.

Loki acted by force when he headed towards the white crib in the back of the room. It was a make-shift nursery, as he didn't see the need to create something elaborate for someone that wouldn't stay with him for long. There was only a crib, a bed, a nightstand and a window. He looked down at the baby and took her in his hands, one palm holding the base of her head with extreme care while the other arm cradled her. It seemed like magic, because as soon as he lifted her up, she halted her crying and proceeded to open her eyes at him.

"Now aren't you a cunning little one." Loki said to the newborn. "There there..." One miniature hand peeked through the wrapping of blankets around her and reached ahead, while her eyes displayed a dark shade of green that he knew to be his. Loki leaned against the crib with her in his hands. "You need a name." He said. A sharp pain hit his throat as he understood that it wasn't up to him to name her. She wasn't his. Her name would be given to her by Thor most likely, if they ever got a hold of him that was. She would be raised along with Thor's children and grow up in Asgard like a princess, just like-

No.

He couldn't. He wouldn't stand and watch his daughter become what he became. That was what she was, she was his daughter and no one else's. He looked down at her as she stared at him with her big eyes and placed a finger under her hand. Her own small fingers wrapped up around it and he smiled. She was his daughter. That was what she was. She was his and no one else's and she would not be raised by Thor, or Stark, or anyone. If this was selfish, so be it. She was his.

He left that night with her, and he planned to never return to accept his dues from Stark.

* * *

  _Pat_.

Loki's eyes fluttered open more at the sound than at the feeling of a soft slap on his face. He blinked and groaned, his feet still cold from the weather. He quickly closed his eyes again, drifting back into a blissful sleep that consumed every part of him.

_Pat. Pat._

" _Baba_..." A voice whispered into his ear. A cold hand pressed against his cheek as he identified the source of the call. He sighed silently yet refused to open his eyes at the child before him. 

"Yes Laila..." He muttered.

"It's an emergency." She said plainly. In another circumstance he would have been alarmed and he would have jumped off the bed to see what was causing his daughter distress, however he knew that Laila had just learned the meaning of the word "emergency" and therefore had deemed it proper to use said word in any given situation that caused her even the mildest amount of surprise. She dropped something? It became an emergency. Loki cut her hair too short? It was an emergency. There was a leak on the roof? Emergency. 

"Chickadee, it's very early...why not go back to sleep."

_Pat. Pat._

"No, it's important." She demanded.

Loki stretched out a hand to stroke a lock of the girl's hair. "I'm sure it can wait until Baba wakes up, little love." He said. Just like that, Laila shook her head and with all her toddler strength crawled her way into Loki's bed. She was a strong girl, stubborn more than anything just like he was. Three years old and already with an ambition far bigger than she was. Her white nightgown fluttered under her as she settled herself in front of Loki's stomach, one hand continuously pat-pat patting away at his cheek like she had before. Eventually Loki gave up, as he usually did when it came to Laila, and opened his eyes at her, green meeting green as she pointed towards a window. It was a shame she had not inherited her mother's eyes, but she looked like him and this made him warm up inside for some reason that evaded him.

He rested a hand under his head and shook his head. "What is it?" He asked. Laila pointed ahead towards the window in front of him. He saw a cover of white before the thin sheet of glass that was the window. He hummed to himself, he didn't know that it was already snowing out. He hummed and nodded silently to himself, when it hit him that Laila had never seen anything like this before. He glanced at the child only to find her staring at him with disbelief, her green eyes wider than ever. Loki laughed and sat up, planting a kiss over his daughter's slightly messy black hair. 

"Baba clouds are falling! From the sky!" She said, indignant.

"No love," he explained, "It's snow, it comes _from_ clouds. It's very cold and soft."

"So it's clouds!" Laila exclaimed.

Loki shook his head, a smile laced upon his lips. "Why don't we go outside, hm? I'll show you, it won't harm you at all." He stroked the toddler's hair with one hand as she kneeled in front of him. 

"You promise?" She asked, one thumb on her mouth as it was usually. He instinctively reached out to pull it out of her lips, it wasn't good for her but she had gotten used to the bad habit years ago. 

"I promise." He said as regally as he could. The child nodded hesitantly and he pinched her cheek ever so lightly before standing up. His limbs were stiff and his neck needed cracking but seeing the child scurry away to her room made him smile. 

They had been moving from place to place since Laila was born. The child knew four different realms but could probably only remember three. Aflheim was their current home, where the light-elves roamed in peace and quiet and rarely with the involvement of any member of the Asgardian court. Loki had studied here in his youth along with the elvish prince. The prince consequentially happened to be a king now, much to his luck, and had offered him amnesty. He could hide here, but not for long, he was not sure when Thor would attempt a manhunt for him and when he did not even an old friend like Arved would be able to stop him.

The pair resided in a small cottage by elvish standards (which resulted in a proper home by midgardian ones), with a prairie of blue grass that connected to a forest. He knew that much like in Midgard, in Aflheim the snow came at the end of the year. The time in this realm were strange, with years of five hundred days and seven different seasons. Laila enjoyed the variety almost as much as she enjoyed playing with elvish children. She was adaptable and of that he was thankful. 

He stepped out of his room dressed in an average elvish winter attire, stepping into Laila's room to dress her. Once he was done she resembled a ball of fur, with a tiny cap over her head and a petrified expression on her eyes. She looked precious, but she was not amused.

"It's itchy." She stated dully.

"Well, it's cold outside." Loki responded as he took her hand.

"I'm hairy all over."

"You're fluffy."

"What's that?"

"That's when something is adorable." He stated, "And you just want to hold it in your arms and hug it." 

"Like a bird?" She asked. 

"Like a bird," He winked. "Like a chickadee." 

"I don't want to be a bird." Laila pouted. Loki scooped her up in his arms and she settled her hand around her neck. The cottage had two stories, the top held three bedrooms –one that remained unused– while the bottom held a modest kitchen, living-room and a dining table made with dark black aflheim mahogany that he secretly wanted to take with him in all his travels. The elvish furniture, fixed in twirls of dark blues and whites contrasted with the wood of the home in a peculiar manner. It had been their longest stay since Laila was born, having already spent seven months in the house which after some consideration was ages more than what the child was used to. It was nothing like Asgard's castle, but it would do for now. Laila seemed to enjoy it, but then again she would enjoy anything if given enough time. She was adaptable just like he was, with the difference that she adapted with glee while he did it with blunt resignation.

He headed to the door with the toddler in his arms, and, at one point, he glanced at her and smiled. He could feel the fear rising from her as she gripped the back of his shirt with anxiety. Anxiety that he recognized as purely childlike, and quite odd on behalf of Laila. She was far more fearless than he was, and seemed to accept new things as they came into her life. Why she was so petrified of the snow he could not fathom, after all snow was harmless. In this realm at least. 

She still had traces of a baby's face on her and he could see it when he looked at her, but the sharp cheek bones of her mother were starting to rise yet her glare was his. Although it was peculiar because when she seemed sad, or she seemed upset, she looked more and more like Wanda. He couldn't pin it at all because he would swear that when she would smile Laila could even looked like his own mother. It wasn't possible, yet there she was.

Loki wrapped a hand on the front door handle and stepped out to reveal the frosty outside. Icicles of blue hues hung from the trees and the snow seemed sheeted by an immaculate layer of untouched snow that watching it made his perfectionist nature satisfied. The snow had stopped falling at some point, but the cold air had remained to tingle Loki's spine and stir some of his birth blood into a thrill. He was a cold blooded soul he supposed. Yet the beauty of the scenery made him more aware than anything, at the sight of trees glazed in snow like sugar pastries and the few rays of sunlight leaking through the branches of the white and green trees as if to shyly say hello. He was at peace when he saw it all. 

"Look at that." He said to the babe in his arms. "Look how pretty it is Laila!"

Laila poked her head out from behind her father's arms and stared out, mouth open. She, like him, thought it was lovely; she perhaps saw it more as a playground than a peaceful scenery unlike he did however. When she looked up, Loki settled his daughter on the snowy ground, watching as she made a half-done attempt to wiggle back into his arms but he blatantly ignored her. She immediately proceeded to latch on to his trousers with an iron grip (or as strong of a grip as her mitten-clad hands could make into his leather trousers.) Loki rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her head.

"Laila, love," He bent down and kneeled before her, holding his hand to hold hers and looking her straight in the eye. He took another hand and gripped with it a handful of snow which molded into his fist as he placed it before her. The child peered into his hand and then back at him. He smiled in return. "See, it won't harm you. It's only snow."

The toddler shook her head. "I had a bad dream of it, _Baba_." She whispered.

Loki felt a chill completely unrelated to the weather shock him in the spine like a lightning bolt.

"And what happened in the dream?" He asked gently.

"Clouds fell from the sky." She said softly. "And you and I- we froze and we died..."

Loki nodded at her, comprehensively and gently, because he understood in more than one way. Children had night terrors all the time; it is a characteristic trait of childhood. He recalled having to deal with the purple eyed monster that lived under Laila's bed a year ago, and when he and Thor where young themselves Jotuns coming to eat children for dinner were all the rage. Of course, nightmares take a different meaning when you became what Loki had become. They were no monsters chasing to catch you; there was only darkness, ice, and blood. No matter how old you were, nightmares are not a pleasant experience. How had Laila dreamed of snow, though?

"It was only a nightmare." He stated, still holding the handful of powdery snow in his hand. "Touch it, I promise you that all will be well, little love."

Many things were true about Laila. She was stubborn, she was strong, she was adaptable, she was capable of melting her father's icy stone heart with a single smile, she was beautiful, she was everything Loki had. Two thing though even Loki could not deny, she loved him and she trusted him. As long as those two things was true, he would be able to do anything. It was a good thing that the only thing the God of Mischief really wanted was to raise her to have the love he didn't have, because that sort of feeling is the one that can lead a man to conquer the universe.

She placed her hand over that of her fathers and dipped her mitten into the snow, immediately gasping at how soft it was. Loki couldn't hold back a grin as the child grew more and more curious as she dug her fingers around the tiny pile. 

"See, chickadee?" He said as he very softly and lovingly pinched her cheek. "Now why don't you go and try that big snow pile around you."

"Can I play in all of it?" She asked.

"Of course, love!"

Lila took roughly three seconds to look around, turn back to her father with a smile and run out onto the snow as she clutched Loki's hand to guide him. She was a happy child again, running around on the snow and quickly transforming the pristine landscape into her own personal artwork. She made castles with the ice and piles, as well as making sure to write her name (or what she thought was her name since she couldn't really spell too well) on the snowy ground. Obviously, Loki praised it because it was a magnificent piece of literature. Loki watched with nothing more than pure and utter joy as his daughter, nose red from the cold, green eyes glistening and fuzzy outfit splashed with snowflakes, played in the snow. It was one of those rare moments of bliss in his life, moments that seemed more common ever since Laila had appeared into it. He believed that if she was the common denominator of them all, then it was clearer now more than ever that he loved her. He loved her simply and happily and that was all.

He had seen a scene like this before, a thousand years before when Thor and him were children. It wasn't in the snowy fields of Aflheim which he only came to know when he was studying abroad, no, it was in the forests of Asgard under the watchful eye of mother. Or, if they were feeling daring, out without no guard nor servant knowing their whereabouts as he and his brother embarked on adventures. With wooden swords given to Thor as gifts from his father, both would fight the evil imaginary trolls and beasts and, of course, the jotuns. They would climb trees, scrape their knees, fall down, bicker, laugh... it was simpler and happier times. Even after Loki would be spanked and Thor would receive a long conversation from Father about ' _the values of a prince_ ' or whatever rubbish Odin believed he was teaching his eldest that spared him the common punishment Loki received. Simpler times when he didn't understand the gravity of it all. When he didn't understand that childhood discipline was just the tip of the iceberg. 

No, he wasn't going to go there. Not now. Not at this moment.

He snapped out of his train of thought quickly. Just as Laila ran towards him, one loud laugh exploding from her lungs, Loki caught her with a hug and tossed her into his arms. She buried her face into his cheek and giggled as he responded with one loud: "Oh it's a frozen little nose!" She giggled yet again and suddenly smiled, pointing ahead.

"Look, Baba! A horse!" The little one called out as she pointed at the distance. Loki still had a smile on his face when he turned and saw that indeed a massive grey stallion was heading towards the home. It wasn't an aflheim horse, no, it lacked the white coat and the furred hooves of the elves' breed of choice. This was a silver beast too pretentious to be from Aflheim, this was a foreign animal. In fact he was pretty sure he could recognize not only the impressive steed but also the golden haired Aesir that rode a-top it. When the rider was close enough, he dismounted, landing with the grace of a gentleman and the dexterity of a cat. Loki settled Laila on the ground, instructing her without words but with one hand to stand behind him. The child obeyed and scurried behind her father, eyes wide with unparalleled curiosity. Loki would not speak first, he watched with a steely look as the familiar figure tucked a furred coat tighter around him and smiled.

"Loki." He said.

"Fandral." The other responded.

The silence in the air was thick and only filled with the sound of Laila's feet in the snow.

"I hope you won't find me to be rude." The warrior responded, "I don't mean to intrude in your home."

Loki couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Always with the manners I see." He said, "What do you want?"

"I only want to talk." Fandral responded, both hands before him. "I can give you my sword if you so desire."

Loki eyed him for a second, considering his options. He could not attack him, of course not, not with Laila here. He was vulnerable due to this as well. It was Fandral after all, and had it been Sif or any of the other two warriors and he would have slammed a door at their face. Yet this was Fandral, a man known for his mercy and kindness even in the battlefield. He had been, growing up at least, the closest thing Loki had to a friend next to Thor of course.

Before Loki could reply, Fandral was smiling at the bundle behind Loki. "Hello there." He said. Ah Fandral, always fantastic with women and children. Particularly the former. Mostly the former.

"My name is Fandral, what is yours little one?" He kneeled down, quickly annoying Loki. He knew this play, gain Laila's trust and therefore gain Loki's. Laila waved a little hand at Fandral and glanced up at her father. 

"This is Laila." He responded coldly. 

"Oh that is a lovely name for a lovely girl." Fandral said, "Tell me, princess, what are you doing out here in the cold?"

"Playing!" She piped up, surprising Loki and bringing a smile to Fandral.

"Well isn't that great! Say, I've been out in the cold too, why don't you and your father help me for a cup of tea to warm me up?" He asked, "If the princess will allow me to enter her castle of course." 

Laila hid her smile behind her mitten and looked up at her father with bright eyes that told him that he had no choice but to bring this buffoon into his house after all. He sighed deeply and glared at Fandral. "Fine, come in. But leave your weapons out the door."

"As is the custom." Fandral said with a bow. 

"Go inside, Chickadee." He said to Laila, "I'll be right there."

The toddler smiled at Fandral and made her way inside the house as best as she could. She left behind her a trail of small footprints that lead to Loki, and as soon as she was gone Fandral began to make his way towards the house. Loki, expert that he was on making threats, gripped him by the arm-sleeve.

"Watch yourself." 

"Paranoia gives you wrinkles, Loki." He said with a gentle voice.

Loki released him and followed him towards the house. He opened the door to see the furry coat of a certain little girl tossed on the floor, and said certain little girl huddled on the sofa with a woolen quilt around her. Loki scooped up the coat and looked at his daughter, brow raised.

"Lailaaa..." He said, "Why did you leave this on the floor?"

"It's itchy!" She responded. 

He lifted both brows now and received a smile and a child scurrying under the covers before muttering a sweet "Sorry Baba." Loki sighed and hung the coat over the hanger beside his own. He glanced at Fandral as the dashing warrior was placing his sword and daggers on the door-side table. Loki gestured towards the table wordlessly and the blond took no time to head towards it, dusting off snow as he went by. 

"Tea?" Loki asked, heading towards the kitchen.

"Or ale, if you have any." Fandral responded quickly. 

"Ah, you need to get accustomed to the culture here." The god of mischief shook his head, "We have wine I'm afraid, ale is not to the taste of elves." It was fine elvish wine, the kind that in Asgard would be kept inside a reserve for special occasions like weddings or deaths. Yet in Aflheim wine was a normal thing, wine and tea were the only liquids ingested by the elves. Loki used it when he needed help sleeping. He never took enough to dull his senses, just enough to calm him down. A glass or two would do the trick, after all he couldn't be stumbling drunk with a little one in the house. 

"Then wine it shall be." Fandral stated calmly. 

Loki served them both a glass of wine and settled the glass container between them as he took a seat in the chair opposite to Fandral. The blond had barely changed in the years that he had not seen him. There was a small scar on his jaw that seemed new, but he blamed it on an angry damsel's claw or something of that sort. He had seen Fandral slapped across the face so many times over the years it was more likely that it was caused by a woman than any rival, enemy, or soldier Fandral had fought. 

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" Loki asked bluntly. Not even sampling the wine that Fandral had so meticulously tasted barely a split second after it was placed before him.

"Now now, don't you want to hear about how everyone else is doing?" The blond asked, "I mean Thor is-"

"I don't care about Thor." 

"Are you sure? It's just gossip, nothing really relevant to you." Fandral stated as he settled the glass down. Loki didn't interrupt him. "You heard that he had a bastard with the midgardian, right?"

"Did he?" Loki raised his brows in surprise. "Reckless. Even for him."

"Oh you were with a midgardian too."

"Yes," Loki pointed out, "But I'm not Odin's son. Oh Odin probably tore apart the banquet hall."

"He was positively furious." 

"I'm not at all surprised." He took a drink of the wine and looked back at the other. "What was his punishment?"

"Marry Sif." 

"What?" 

Fandral took a drink and nodded. Loki's jaw hit the floor as he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Like you heard." Fandral sighed. Loki shook his head and chuckled lightly as Fandral continued. "They're relatively happy. They had a boy not soon after and I do believe she's pregnant again."

"Three children already? Thor?" 

"He loves being a father, he's very happy with two sons." He sighed as he spoke. "He loves those boys, even though Odin won't even look at the eldest."

"He won't need Odin." Loki stated as he ran a finger over the rim of the goblet. "As long as Thor loves him."

"Oh and he does. Sif does too, she's very good with them. Didn't think they'd be into the whole parenting ordeal but it seems like they are."  He laughed lightly, "It seems like you are too."

Loki glanced up from his drink at the other and shrugged. "I do what I can."

"She looks just like you." He said, "Who was her mother?"

"Not important." He downed the wine, knowing that this conversation was not going to be just a simple session of gossip with an old childhood friend. If it was going to involve invasive and uncomfortable questioning about his past, he was going to need as much alcohol in his system as he could muster. "What did you really come here for, Fandral? I don't think it was to tell me Sif and Thor had married now was it?"

"No." The other responded. "No, it was not. I've come to warn you."

"Then...?" Loki served himself another glass of wine as Fandral remained quiet for a second. The blond seemed to be looking for the right words, something strange as much like him Fandral was an eloquent charmer. He wasn't quite at his level yet of course, but he was close enough to rarely have no way to speak in words. It worried him only a bit, however, because ever since the beginning he was already expecting the worst out of this entire conversation. 

"Odin knows you are alive." He began.

"Does he."

"He knows that Laila exists." The warrior continued, eyes piercing into Loki's skull. His hand gripped the wine glass hard, so hard in fact that his knuckles bared as white as the winter snow. "He wants to punish you," Fandral said "and he wants to eradicate any evidence of her existence."

"What do you mean?" The god's voice seemed to deepen involuntarily as he spoke to Fandral.

Fandral hesitated before sighing and turning to Loki again, "He wants us to find you both, kill your daughter, and torture you..." He downed the glass much like Loki had done a few moments prior before speaking again.

"He's gotten some disturbing inspiration from old myths."


	2. Run

Loki's eyes darted to the couch across the room, hidden behind a half wall that could hide their conversation but he was unsure as to how long. He could see Laila on the floor, wrapped on her quilt with a doll in her hand. She didn't own many toys, but those she did own would often appear laying around the house in random places. He drummed his fingers on the table and turned back to Fandral, who was serving himself another goblet of wine.

 _An old myth_.

That was definitely not good. He believed that at most should he be found he would be placed in the dungeons along the other criminals and Laila would be given to another family to raise, perhaps even Thor's family. He had never heard of kings murdering children out of war, it just didn't happen. Even at war the murdering of children was highly frowned upon, as Thor had been known to strike and banish men under his command that even _threatened_ to lift a hand to a child. Odin himself had found him in the battlefield and made the son of the enemy into his own, something that although uncommon, was a clear indicator of what the common Aesir thought of children. 

"Has he gone mad?" Loki asked, quickly piecing everything together. 

"Some say he has." Fandral responded, "Ever since Thor's return with his son, their relationship has been strained... to say the least. I suppose he's getting old, but he has been acting this way since the death of the queen." 

To hear of his mother made him bite into his lip.

"Thor won't allow it." Loki stated. "He would send his men to kill a child, he would refuse to do so."

"Odin has ordered Thor to kill her himself." Fandral stated. Goblet number two, for both of them, went down their throats in a single swing. 

"He won't do it." He echoed. "He can't. Much less now that he's a father."

"That's why he sent me here to warn you." Fandral said as the glass wine container filled yet another goblet. "You know he's very proud. Soldiers kill children all the time even if Thor does not see it. Trust me, Loki, the murder wouldn't be the worst part if you two are caught."

"What exactly does this old myth entail?" Loki asked. He wanted to know after all, because of old myths he knew plenty. He had read them all, or been told all by his mother in the form of stories. He knew all of them ended with the victory of Asgard. 

"The myth of the serpent." Fandral began. "The myth says that the traitor had his lips sewn, and he was bound to the serpent's stone with the entrails of his children while venom of the viper dripped into his eyes. That is what Odin is thinking about."

There was a pause for a moment which drained the soul out of Loki as he glanced at his empty goblet with a blank stare, eyes trying to find something in the glass to look at. He bit his lip again. This was not possible. It was not possible that Odin had gone so absolutely insane as to commit such a horrible crime to a child and then punish him like this. Asgard had never worked this way; even war prisoners were either executed or placed in the dungeons. Crime and punishment, for as long as he could remember, had been simple. He glanced at his daughter, who still with the doll in hand seemed to be ignorant of what was being said by the men in the table.  Then he turned back to Fandral who seemed, much like him, vacant inside. He looked defeated, as he often did when he had returned from battle. 

"You're lying." Loki stated. He knew Fandral did not tell a lie, he would know. Fandral was an honest man with often good intentions who seldom lied unless it was absolutely necessary, unlike him. He was saying this with hope in mind. Hope that it was not true.

"I wish I was." The other responded. "Loki, you must leave Aflheim. Thor knows that you are here and while he is not a threat it won't take long for Odin to pull the information out of him. For the sake of the child you must go."

Loki considered this for a second and he knew him to be right. If he stayed, Thor and his men would find him and it would all be over. The problem here wasn't in deciding whether to leave or to stay, it was figuring out where he could go. He had already been to Niflheim and Muspelheim and even hid in the forests of Asgard for a while with an infant Laila. Now Aflheim had become a place like home, where he actually owned a home and some land and he believed he could rebuild a life for his daughter far away from the grasp of Odin. He could not go to Midgard of course, it was protected by Thor and Heimdall would know if he went there. Asgard was obviously out of the question and Niffleheim was inhospitable for a child. Perhaps Vanaheim would protect him, after all it was a vast land where it was easy to hide in. The problem here was that Vanaheim was dangerously close to Asgard.

"Where to go is the question." Loki stated. "Vanaheim-"

"Vanaheim is occupied, Thor has more troops there than in any other realm." Fandral interjected. "Hogunn would know if you were there, Loki."

"Then where am I supposed to go?" Loki asked.

"Loki," Fandral began, "I think you should go to Jotunheim."

"No."

There was no way he was actually thinking of this. Loki heard the words come out of Fandral's mind and immediately, as if processing what the blond had said, glanced away in complete wonder. He turned back to Fandral who stared at him calmly, while Loki's expression lay between angry and amused at what the other had just said.

"You must be out of your mind." Loki said. "Jotunheim? You do know that I'm-"

"A Jotun, yes." Fandral said, "Thor told us that's why you went ballistic."

"I didn't go ballistic." He definitely had but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking that. "And what makes you think that Jotunheim is a smart place for me and my child to go to? Do you remotely think that the frost giants are going to care for the one that killed their king?! Are you _mad_ , Fandral?" He was yelling at Fandral in whispers, glancing at Laila periodically to make sure that the child was not hearing the conversation. She had a thumb in her mouth and a doll in her hand and seemed to be absorbed on the elven doll which had been a gift from the king. 

"Loki, the king had a _wife_. Your birth-mother." Fandral began. Loki rolled his eyes and looked away but inside of him something stirred. His birth-mother who had abandoned him in a temple to rot as a newborn. "She rules Jotunheim. You may receive asylum there if you appeal to her."

"What makes you think that the queen-"

"-Farbauti-"

" _Farbauti?_ " Loki asked with a raised eyebrow. "Oh is she your newest conquest, Fandral, that you seem so keen on me addressing that _thing_ by her name?"

"Loki-"

"No don't scold me I have no empathy for a being that abandons her own child to die and I never will!" Loki raised his voice at this point, drawing the attention of the child from her doll. Laila had rarely heard her father raise her voice like that, and thus at the sound she seemed perplexed. Loki's expression softened when he looked at her and he sighed, turning back to Fandral with a calm demeanor.

"She has three sons aside from you." He stated, "Sif has met with her. She requested that she hide you and your little one and according to her, the queen agreed without any negotiations."

"I didn't know Sif to be so diplomatic." Loki muttered.

"She is trying to be more like your mother, perhaps." Fandral said, stroking his beard with an index finger. "Or perhaps now that she has children of her own, she wants her safe."

"I would think Sif wanted Laila away from me." 

"She did." Fandral nodded, "Until Thor convinced her otherwise."

"Ah." Loki said simply. Sif never liked him, not ever. She couldn't trust him for reasons that he understood too well. Yet even he knew that she loved Thor, and she had loved him ever since they were children. Perhaps she was trying to please a husband that she knew loved another woman more than her, thus she talked to the queen to save their lives in hopes to be in his good graces. Poor Sif, he knew what it was like to be second best.

"So will you go to Jotunheim?" Fandral asked. "You have to understand that it will be the last place where anyone would look."

"For a reason, Fandral." Loki said. "I don't know if it'll be safe for her."

"Take a chance, Loki." Fandral said. "You're out of options."

That much was true. He literally had nowhere else to go. He looked at the other with defeat in his eyes as he looked over at Laila who had gone back to playing with her doll. 

"Laila, love come here." He called. The child looked up and stumbled up, walking towards her father with her thumb in her mouth and black hair over her face. Loki lifted her up and placed her on his lap where she quickly leaned against him in a gesture of comfort. 

"Darling, I'm afraid we're going to have to move." He said to the girl as he stroked her head. 

"Again? Why?" She popped her thumb out of her mouth and stared at her father outraged. "What did I do?"

"No, no love you've been well-behaved." Loki said. "We have to go because it's time. We've been here too long."

"But what about the snow?" She asked.

Fandral chuckled, "Oh there will be snow where you're going, princess..."

Loki glared at him, but not in time for Laila to look at Fandral and ask: "Really?"

"Oh yes." Fandral said. "Plenty of snow."

"Baba can we go to the snow?"

"No, you will get sick." Loki said to the child. "We'll see about it when we get there."

" _Please_?" She asked, thumb in her mouth and big eyes looking at her father. Loki pulled the thumb out of her mouth and settled his fingers on the side of his daughter quickly, tickling her and causing a burst of laughter to come out of her. 

"Noo..." He responded

"Baba!" She said outraged. He laughed and planted a kiss on her forehead, glancing away to think for a second before turning to Fandral. He stared at them with a soft smile upon his face, looking at the small family like a complete idiot. For a man with probably more children scattered all over the place than any other Asgardian bachelor, Fandral sure was soft-hearted when it came to them. 

"So when should we go?" Loki asked Fandral as Laila settled the doll on her lap. The blond warrior settled aside the wine glass and sighed, considering this for a second before responding.

"Leave in the morning." He advised. 

"So soon?"

"They already know you're here. I'll leave you my horse." Fandral said, "Which reminds me that I should be going, there is a feast in the evening to celebrate the prince's first birthday."

"You're leaving then,"

"That's correct," The Dashing stood up and kissed Laila's hand before heading out the door. "My princess." He said, causing the child to giggle. He smiled at her and then at Loki who shook his head without being able to hold back a smile.

"Incorrigible are you, Fandral?" The God of Mischief said.

"The same to you, Silver-tongue. The same to you." He placed a hand over Laila's head "Thank you for the wine." Loki did not thank him for coming or for helping them. He didn't thank Fandral for being kind to his daughter, for defying his king in order to warn them, or for hiding their location from those that could harm them. He didn't thank him for anything. He watched as Laila waved a little hand at the dashing warrior and he disappeared out his front door and he did nothing. Loki did not know it, but this would be the last he saw of Fandral in a very, very long time.

* * *

Laila awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of pounding. She lifted her head up from her pillow and looked around her bedroom, recognizing that whatever the strange sound was, it came from outside her window. She had gone to bed hours ago, dreamed of snow and laughter just like she had spent that previous day. Her small bedroom was consumed with darkness, but a strange light, dim as it may be, came from the window. She gripped her doll tightly, looking around for a source of comfort in the dark.

The sound was getting louder.

"Baba!" She cried out, fear overcoming her. She knew nothing else to do. "Baba!" 

An instant later, her door burst open and her father appeared behind it, still wearing the outfit that he had worn the day before. He snatched her out of her bed, gripping her tightly and pale as a sheet as he ran out of the room with a petrified Laila in his arms. The house seemed emptier than ever, gloomier, even more dangerous. Some moments after her father headed down the stairs with Laila in his arms, the child dropped the doll that she had so lovingly held in her arms that night. She tried to reach for it, but Loki was not paying attention to the toy.

"Love stay quiet. We need to go now." He covered the child in the winter coat that he had hung from the side of the door earlier that day. It would protect her somewhat, as her white nightgown was barely any protection at all. He himself was wearing a fur cape and thus he slammed open the door and made a run for Fandral's stallion, which neighed and kicked the ground as the lights and noises of horses approached the house. Loki placed Laila on the horse and got in behind her, wrapping her with the fur coat as much as he could before he kicked the horse and the stallion began running.

He could see Asgardian shields glistening with the light of torches. The horse, fast as it was, had a distance ahead to the others. The icy wind hit him across the face like a slap as he continued to run out through the fields. He knew where the gateway was, and if he was going to make it he had to be fast. Laila gripped on to her father's shirt as the thick fur covered her body. Loki couldn't see it, but his daughter was crying in confusion at what was going on. The lights and sounds and her Baba's heartbeat pounding away under her ear made her tears fall and freeze on her pale face.

 

 

Fandral's stallion was fast. The beast bolted through the snow with seeming expertise, which was one of the perks of owning a horse that belonged to one of the Warrior's Three. This was no ordinary animal, of that he was certain. He avoided the horses of common soldiers and let them become lights in the distance, calming him down ever so slightly.

But there was one horse that was faster than Fandral's.

Galloping through the Snow, Loki recognized Sleipnir's fur immediately when the eight-legged steed was close behind him. His rider needed no introduction, as he pleaded to whatever Gods may hear him that Fandral's common horse would just this one time defeat the speed of the legendary Sleipnir. He had created that horse, he knew what it could do. An arrow bolted through and shot at the snow before him, causing Loki alarm. He figured that whoever had shot him had done so without orders as Odin's loud scolding voice behind him could be heard yelling at whoever had thrown it. 

He was no match for Sleipnir and he knew it. His heart was practically pounding out of his chest as he heard the horse at his tail, Odin's voice saying something that he could not identify in between the panting of the horses and the sound of the wind blowing on his face. He kept going as far as he could, hoping that the animal would not give. She wouldn't die in the hands of Odin. 

Just as he thought this, the sound of a blade unsheathing hit his ear and suddenly a sharp pain bolted his side as he recognized the feeling of a throwing knife through the thick fur. He struggled to pull out the cape behind him, as so in this way to pull out the knife that Odin had stuck on his side. He did this swiftly, and in one move, but when he did he exposed the terrified Laila in his arms to the horseman beside him. Loki turned to face Odin for the first time in years. The man was older, angrier, with an unreadable expression on his face. Loki turned his head before him and then back in fear as Odin raised a long-sword at them. Laila screamed.

And then Sleipnir stopped running.

Loki watched while he sped up before them as the beast fought under Odin's grip. The massive horse neighed and kicked and in confusion Loki kept going through the fields. He didn't look back, but he could hear Sleipnir's screams almost as if in pain. The horse entered the forest as the pain in Loki's side seemed to subside ever so slightly. He lost sight of the soldiers and Odin as the Aflheim trees consumed his view and he could see the entrance to the cave that was the gateway to the other realms. Loki knew he could not leave the horse behind; they would recognize it as Fandral's and punish the warrior should he do this.

They slowed down as they entered the cave, going through the crevices of the darkness with the reluctant horse and the shivering child made Loki weary of his surroundings. 

"Baba..." Laila moaned in his arms. "Baba I'm scared."

"It's going to be alright, love." He responded. "I promise."

As they entered another path in the cave, Loki felt everything around him move. Colors sounds and noises seemed distorted, and Loki kicked the horse so that the beast would run faster. Laila screamed again and he gripped her tight as a kaleidoscope of reds and yellows and then blues and whites consumed  child and horse and man and spat them out to even colder air than that of Aflheim. He felt as the horse fell in thin air and Loki watched for a split second as the Darkness of the cave was consumed and transformed into a collage of icy blues. Then he fell off the horse, as he apparently had transported himself above the ground due to a change in the level of the portals. Laila shrieked as the three dropped into the ice, the horse falling a couple of feet from them and Loki grasping Laila as though to make sure she would not hit herself on the hard ice. The horse neighed, shaking off the fall and standing back on his feet as if nothing had happened.

Loki turned to Laila who was still in tears as she sat up, looking at him with frosted droplets on her face. Loki hushed and took her in his arms, stroking the child's head as her tears turned to bawling. She held him tight, while the horse approached them with certain curiosity, Loki stood up and placed his cheek against his daughter's.

"There there little love, it's alright." He hummed. "It's alright." He could have lost her, and although he would waste no time right now to question what had happened to Sleipnir as he ran after them he still wanted to know what possessed Odin to go after them himself. He payed it no mind, looking down at his daughter as she gripped him for dear life.

It occurred to Loki at this moment to look up, and so he did. He glanced around the icy emptiness seeing only the shadow of a castle in the distance and, most terrifying of all, the outline of a group of frost-giants making their way to them quickly.

Very quickly.


	3. Jotunheim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should have mentioned this before but English is not my first language. If you do see any errors or mistakes please let me know because I'm a complete idiot.
> 
> Other than that, do enjoy!

 Loki was frozen at the sight of the giants approaching, unsure as to how to react. He gripped Laila tightly in his arms, knowing full well that the child was barefoot and that he couldn't set her down by any means. He couldn't run anymore, not while he was injured and not while he didn't know where he was going. He realized then that there wasn't just one giant, or two. There was a whole group of them. Icy blue statues with deep red eyes seemed to appear around them, circling them and staring down from the frosted hills. Loki was petrified into place as he stared at each and every one of them, wondering what he was going to do now.

One, taller than the rest, appeared to come closer. He stepped down on the ice effortlessly, red eyes staring at Loki with an unreadable expression as he made his way before him. He was massive, roughly a foot taller than Loki. When fighting them, Loki had not noticed just how large their race was. He gripped Laila tightly, who hid amongst the furred cape completely covered. The child however scurried her head out of the fur to take a look at whoever had stepped before her father. When she saw the giant she gasped, green eyes widening at the sight. The giant however, softened upon seeing Laila. Loki glanced down at her and considering removing the glamour that covered them, but he thought otherwise. He didn't want Laila becoming even more scared at this moment than she already was.

"My name is Loki." He would not state where he was from. He did not know. "This is my daughter. We seek asylum from the queen."

"We were made aware of your arrival." The giant said. "I am Helblindi, son of Farbauti."

"Son of Laufey as well?" Loki asked, tentatively.

"We do not speak that name here." The other responded gently. "Please come with me, mother is expecting your arrival."

' _Your mother_.' Loki almost said, but he didn't. It wouldn't be smart for the sake of his stay here, even if he didn't really plan on staying very long in this particular realm. With one hand he took the brittle of Fandral's stallion as he headed through the giants, who stared at the horse with expressions that he could not quite pin down and didn't care much for. Laila, suddenly braver than before, stuck her head out of the fur and over Loki's shoulder, staring out at the giants and the scenery with big eyes. Loki shifted his arm, looking at his daughter as Laila waved a small hand at a giant behind her. He didn't turn to see if the giant looked back.

Reaching the palace made for a long walk. For every step Helblindi took, Loki took two. Laila remained quiet the whole way, glancing around and at her father but never uttering a single word. At one point she placed a small hand on his cheek as a gesture of comfort, and he responded by kissing the hand and smiling down at her reassuringly. 

"It will be well, love." Loki said to her. "We're almost there."

The arrival to the massive frozen fortress stunned Loki, as he was not sure how he had missed this from the beginning visits here. He followed the other into the iced gates of the palace only to reveal furs and heads of animals mounted on the walls, with weapons as decoration and tapestries hanging from the walls. He had not expected this from Jotunheim, but then again the beliefs he had of the placed were infused in him by Asgard, which was not a very reliable source. Loki glanced down at his daughter as she looked around, turning back to him and looking down at the stone floors.

"Where are we, Baba?" The little one asked, looking back up at her father.

"This is Jotunheim, little one." a voice responded from the shadows. Father and child both turned to whatever had responded, a deep woman's voice that Loki could only guess who it belonged to. He saw soon as from the light of the torches a woman stepped forward. She was tall and muscular, with long black hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her head was draped in gold jewels and animal fangs, all which including the fur over her shoulders made her look positively terrifying to a child and intimidating to an adult. Her features however were beautiful in the same way that a storm is beautiful. Sharp cheekbones and full lips that made her features harsh and regal, yet without a doubt she was lovely. Loki felt that as she approached, Laila pushed aside the fur that covered her body and stared upon the queen, who looked at them both with utter neutrality.

No one said anything for a good while, until none other than little Laila broke the silence.

"What's Jotunheim?" She asked no one in particular.

"The birth place of your father." The queen responded. "I am Farbauti, queen of Jotunheim and leader of it's armies. You both are welcome her for as long as you need."

"We don't plan to stay long. We don't want to be any  _trouble_." Loki spoke dryly, and spat out the last word like it was poison.

"You are not." Helblindi said, "We are happy to aid our own, particularly family."

" _Family_..." Loki echoed, looking down at Laila. Had this been other circumstances, he would have gone off. But he couldn't, not for her sake. He would have to bite his tongue for the time being, just until he found somewhere else to go to. "Very well."

"Remove your mask, son of my mother." Helblindi said, "Let us see you as you were born."

"No." Loki said simply. "I don't want to scare my daughter."

"Has she never seen you in your-"

"No and I would rather she never did." Loki hissed. "I wouldn't want the disdain of my child, it seems like a terrible thing to possess." 

He could have sworn that a saddened expression crossed the queen's face for a moment before it went away. As he thought this, he felt the pain on his side sharpen for reasons unknown to him. It had only been a scratch, it had no reason to keep aching like it did. He would look into it when he retired for the night, for now he had to hope that this awkward situation would end sometime soon. 

 

He turned to Helblindi, disregarding the queen completely. "Where should we be staying, I'm afraid we're exhausted from the journey."

"Yes follow me." Helblindi said, clearing his throat. "Mother," The queen lifted a hand to dismiss him as she remained deep in thought. Loki left the horse behind, sure that he could not take the beast with him into the chambers, and instead left it to the Queen. An interesting souvenir he brought with him indeed. 

The giant led them over a series of steps and hallways, all surprisingly warm for a place like this and decorated in what can only be described as rough, old, and often times interesting artifacts. Had he been a child here he would have probably broken a few things just from trying to see what they were, and he was sure that if Laila was set loose amongst these halls she would never get bored from the amount of things she could discover. As they made their way down the hall, Laila would point to random objects, and Helblindi would respond patiently as if it were a game.

"What's that?" 

"That is a tapestry of a mome-rath, an ancient creature that used to eat cattle and horses but we hunted down to save our people."

"And that?" 

"That is the battle axe of my great-great-grandfather, king Blerskorg. He used it to defeat four hundred armies in the first wars."

"And that?" 

"That is the head of a Giant boar, the first one I ever hunted when I was just a child."

"And that?"

"That is a carpet. Mother liked it and placed it there."

Finally they arrived to a wooden door that Helblindi said marked the spot for their chambers. Loki was grateful that the exchange was over because he was feeling awful, and the pain on his side seemed to increase every time the frost giant would humor the child and answer her many questions. He was exhausted, not to mention that he had a developing head-ache from whatever this conversation had been.

"This will be it. I shall leave you two alone now, goodnight little one. Be good." He placed a hand on his chest and gave Loki a long look before making his way out of the hall and back to where he came from. Loki glanced down at Laila who had placed her thumb in her mouth at one point and smiled at him. She had a tired look on her face, and he did not blame her. Opening the wooden door and stepping inside a massive stone bedroom. A hearth in the middle of the room  caught Loki's attention and upon seeing that the floor was not ice, he settled Laila down onto it. He was tired of carrying her, and although she was not heavy by any means he still could only go so far with a barefoot child. 

"Baba I'm tired." She hummed softly, rubbing her face with the palm of her hand. Loki turned to see what can only be described as a low bed on the opposite side of the room, which was wrapped in furs of different colors and shapes. He took Laila's hand and walked towards it, sitting down a-top the mattress and laying down his daughter on it. The pain on his side was horrifying at this point, causing him to barely be able to keep his eyes open. He felt, as strange as it may seem, as if his body temperature was rising rapidly. It was almost like a fever, only that it was ten times worse and much more painful. He tucked Laila in with the furs and watched as she closed her eyes faster than he had ever seen her. He ran a finger over her forehead, causing the child to open her eyes and look at him for a second before closing them again.

"Are you sick, Baba?" She asked quietly.

"Why do you say so, love?" 

"You're warm like when you get sick." Laila responded, a thumb being placed in her mouth once again.

"Go to sleep, chickadee." He said, as he pulled the finger away and stroked his daughter's hair. He needn't tell her again, as Laila was able to drift into sleep before he even finished calling her by her pet name. As soon as her breath evened, Loki stood up, knowing that he needed a healer soon or else he risked collapsing in front of his child. It didn't take long for him to connect the dots when it came to the knife Odin had used to stab him with; it had been poisoned. 

He knew that whatever poison it was, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that it was probably an elaborate one. He had never known Odin to use Poison at all, that was considered a woman's weapon in Asgard and not something that was used by the king of the nine worlds. Loki would worry about Odin's insanity later, as for now he had to find a healer because he could literally feel his body shutting down as he stumbled through the bedroom and out the door. He was careful inside their chambers but when he walked out to the hall he literally could take no more of it and seven steps out the door he collapsed, the fire on his side stronger than ever and whatever fever had consumed him was pulling away his glamour and sending him into his Jotun form. He felt the fire spreading towards his throat and into his veins where it felt as if the blood inside of them was boiling. Everything he did and everything he moved was incredibly painful.

He didn't recall at what moment he lost consciousness, but he did know that moments before he had heard the sound of feet running his way and then, everything turned black.

* * *

 

 

_There was nothing in the dream, nothing. No light. No nothing. Suddenly, in the darkness, he saw as spirals of nothingness came and grasped him, pulling him away as if he were caught in the middle of a storm. The wind was blowing wildly, like it had when he ran from Odin in Aflheim earlier, only it was –for lack of better words– far more violent. As if everything around him was being done to destroy him. The only thing he could identify clearly was the pain on his side which remained stronger than ever. A voice in his ear told him everything he needed to know._

**_"Oh how far you have come."_ **

_Loki had never heard Hela so clearly before. The hands that pulled him coldly from his own arms as if to send him away elsewhere. He panicked quickly, pulling away from the grasp of Hela and into the spiral around him that fought and pulled like a hurricane. He still felt her presence behind him and thus he turned, and turned again, in confusion as if to find where she was. His breath lingered, the pain digging like a parasite into his system and through the other side, causing him to scream. Hoarse, Loki fell to his knees, grasping his sides and breathing as well as he could while the spiral of chaos surrounded him. He glanced up to see her, Hela, standing before him in her black gown, her greying skin, her terrifying beauty._

**_"It will be fast if you let it."_ ** _She said,_ **_"Give in."_ **

_"No." He uttered._

_And then she was unsheathing a sword with a black blade, dark and stained with a thousand souls and a thousand screams as she prepared to execute him. Loki stared at her, knowing that Hela had probably waited centuries for the satisfaction of executing her father. She had no soul, of this he knew, which was the reason she ruled Hel. She only did this because she could. He wasn't able to fight, nor able to protest from the consuming fire inside of him. All he could do was look at the sword and pray that all would be well. This had to be it._

_Then there was a red light._

_Hela turned to see a river of red surround them, pouring like water but moving like smoke as it circled them both, breaking the cyclone that had attacked Loki and causing the queen of the realm of the dead to settle her sword back in it's place. Then, he could have sworn he heard laughter. A sweet, familiar laughter, that seemed to come from all sides of the storm. Hela seemed perplexed as she looked down at Loki with a mixture of disdain and amusement, placing a fist on her chest as a sign of respect and turning around._

_**"You will be spared. This time."** She said. **"This time."**_

_And then she was gone with the storm, stepping out from the rivers of red and dissipating just as swiftly as she had arrived before him. Loki was left there, kneeling and alone and confused, yearning to hear the laughter again. He looked up, into the storm that seemed to be blending down into the river of red. The red smoke grew in size until it became a fog and suddenly she heard it again. The laughter._

_"Laila!" He called frantically. "Laila!"_

_But he never saw Laila, he only heard her. Because by the time he was able to stand up, he was blinded by a bright white light._

* * *

 

"He's coming back." 

The deep and raspy voice was unfamiliar, but the feeling of regaining consciousness was so. He could feel his arms and legs ache as if stabbed by tiny needles in each nerve and his head aching with a heavy head-ache that pounded inside like an off-beat drum. He groaned instinctively, his hand gripping the fur beneath him as he opened his eyes only to have a bright, sharp, blue light blind him momentarily until he got accustomed to it. Loki's mouth tasted like cotton, and his throat was burning with thirst. Overall, this feeling was similar to waking up with an extreme hangover.

"Laila...where's Laila..." He croaked, sitting up. A hand held his back but he dismissed it with a wave as he shut his eyes and placed a hand on his temple.

"She is well, Loki." It was Farbauti by his side, her voice making him open his eyes almost instantaneously. Her hair was tied behind her in a neat braid, golden specs and chains wrapped around it while the netted fabric over her shoulders made her look older and for some reason wiser than before. He sighed and looked down, noticing now that he had entered his Jotun form shortly after he collapsed. He was still very unfamiliar with this form and understood it very little, as so discomfort settled in quickly when he noticed his hands overcome with the dark blue. 

"How long have I been out?" He asked, turning now to what he could only assume was the healer beside him. The giant stared at him with folded arms and a completely expressionless look on his face.

"A week." He responded.

_"A week?!"_

"You have been poisoned," Farbauti explained, "Luckily the venom is quite familiar to us. A jotun of our size may not be as affected as you were but then again you are after all smaller. You were almost gone to us, Loki."

"Whoever attacked you did not use enough." The healer said, handing Loki a goblet. Loki glanced at it and then turned to the healer. "It is only ale, to soften the head pain." Loki sighed and downed the liquid in one swing, all-too familiar with the fact that he detested ale and would always loathe it. He looked back at the glass once it was gone and realized that it tasted... differently from Ale. 

"It's sweet," Loki said.

"'Tis not that Asgardian rubbish, milord." The healer said. "Now rest, and you shall be back to your feet in no time."

"Thank you." 

"Thank me not." The healer said, "It is my duty." and with that he was gone, heading out through the door and leaving Farbauti with him alone. Loki took a deep breath and turned to the queen, who stared at him with a calm expression that somehow managed to soothe him. He waited for her to say something, anything, and when she did not he turned away.

"Where is she?" He asked.

"With my daughter in law and her children." She said, "She is well cared for, Loki. We do not harm children in this realm and never will. It is a crime of the most heinous nature."

Loki paused, considering this for a second and smiling. Two different ideas made him think hard about this statement, the first being the question as to why the queen felt the need to mention this. Perhaps it was to point out that she knew who was aiming to hunt down his daughter, that she would not stand for the murder of a child even if it was by the king of the most powerful realm in the universe. She knew it was Odin who wanted her dead, and this infuriated her. The second thought was that, in all senses of the word, this was absolutely idiotic. She had after all abandoned him and left him to die as a newborn infant. 

"Is it?" He asked lightly.

"Yes, that is why when a king kills a child, particularly one of his own, he is repudiated by our kind for generations." She stared at him without a single expression for a long time, Loki furrowed his brow and believed it to be still about Odin until, after much thought, he understood.

"Oh." He was an _idiot_.

It had not been Farbauti that had sent him to die in that frozen rock when he was an infant, it was _Laufey_. Laufey the cruel king had taken his malformed son and tossed him to die, probably ripping him away from his mother because it was the absolutely reasonable thing to do in his mind. He already knew his children had to be strong and unyielding and having one that was different was unacceptable. It made sense, the king was mad. Laufey had done it. 

Not her.

"I..." He began, "When I was-"

"When you were born, you were loved and that is all." She said matter-of-factly, "Loved by the mother that brought you here, loved by the siblings who saw you come. You were unloved by the king who saw it fit for you to die."

"I was a child, why didn't you protect me?"

"Because I was bedridden, it was a horribly painful birth. I had no say in it, and although we searched for months... for _years_. We could not find you. I thought you dead." Something in her voice broke. She spoke regally, like a queen must. It was a familiar sound, it reminded him of Frigga in a sense. "Then the one that took the eye of Odin claimed you lived as the son of the Asgardian king and Laufey saw it as an act of treason. Jotunheim was in shambles after the war, the palace was broken, disorder and chaos reigned and the casket of ancient winters was taken from us, we had nothing ... I knew you would be safer as an Asgardian prince than as the disdained son of the king. It hurt my heart but I knew it to be true."

Loki stared at Farbauti in complete disbelief, watching as the queen nodded gently and silenced. He spoke not a word, for the first time in a very long time, as Volstagg so eloquently placed it his silver tongue turned to lead. He turned to his side, thinking about this for a second before turning back.

"I'm sorry." He said simply. 

"Don't be." She responded, "It is all in the past now, there is nothing to be done for it."

"If you only knew what has happened so far." He said, "If you knew what my so called father has done to me."

"I know he intends on killing your child," She stated, "Which is a despicable thing to condemn something as innocent as that to. She is a sweet girl, you must be very proud."

"I am." He said, smiling softly. "She is an incredible girl."

"And the child's mother?" Farbauti asked.

"Dead. Before that, Midgardian." He stated.

"Did you love her?"

"Well." She was remarkable, wonderful, powerful. She was everything he valued in another being, and they understood each other far better than many others could. Did he love her, however? He could not quite say. He cared for her, of that he was absolutely sure. "She gave me the being I love the most in the world, for that I love her. It was also a horrible birth."

"The girl is special." Farbauti said, "She is also beautiful in her natural form, her half-blood gives her some remarkable features."

"You let her see her jotun form?" Loki asked, now a bit alarmed.

"She plays with jotun children, it is only natural that she be in her natural shape by consequence." She chuckled gently and patted his hand, "Don't fret, she is not alarmed by it. I think it's time for you to see her, don't you?"

"Yes." Loki nodded, "Yes I think it's time indeed." He was anxious to see Laila after a week. He believed he had never been away from her for more than a couple of hours and a week seemed like something that was just not in his list of possibilities. He straightened up, feeling considerably better than he did moments prior when he had woken up. Farbauti took his arm as he stood up, revealing her height was bigger than his by a considerable amount. She was not as tall as Helblindi, that much was true, but she was still taller than Loki. When he stood up, the God of mischief ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I can walk." He stated, and Farbauti stepped aside, handing him a fur coat to put on.

They made their way out of the room in silence, but in peace, now having spoken what should have been spoken a long time ago. Loki wasn't sure if he wanted to accept Farbauti as his own mother for now, all he knew was that she cared for his daughter and at one point she had loved him as her own. That was enough for him, and thus he trusted her. Perhaps soon enough, or at one point, he would be able to love her as well. For now, it was all in a state of serenity. All he wanted now that he had made truce with his birth mother was to see Laila. He would not go back to the dark thoughts, not as long as his little one still remained. They walked through a series of steps and into another unfamiliar hall, where Farbauti explained was where the children had their own chambers.

Stepping out of the corner, Loki heard a familiar sound that made his heart do a summersault. He turned around, expectant, watching as Farbauti's face transformed into a broad smile and in the hall the healer stepped forward, proud smile on his face while three more figures followed. He recognized Helblindi, tall and strong and beside him a female giant, covered in furs and a gentle smile upon her face as another smaller figure raced between them and towards Loki.

" _Baba_!" 

Before he knew it, Loki had Laila in his arms again. Holding her tightly and showering her in kisses that he knew were long overdue, the child laugh that laugh that made it all well and he hugged her tightly. He cared not for the good-natured laughter of Helblindi or the smile of Farbauti that he could still feel even though he could not see her. The child was in her jotun form, but this seemed to be the last of Laila's worries as she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing under his ear and smiling. All that mattered was this.

"Baba you're blue!" She said pulling back and placing both hands on each side of his cheeks. "You're blue like me!"

"Yes, chickadee!" He responded, unable to hide away his smile. "You're beautiful!"

She giggled and he placed his forehead against hers for a moment, chuckling under his breath. "Are you better now?" She asked, one hand on his cheek and the other on his forehead like he did when she became ill. Loki held back another laugh as he kissed her hand gently and nodded.

"I'm much better little one," He said, "Much, much better."

"Good." She said, placing her head on his shoulder as Loki tried very very hard not to let the knot in his throat be visible to any of the giants present. Instead he glanced at the child and kissed her head gently before turning to Helblindi. It was strange indeed to see the giant smile, but it was stranger to see him calmly placing an arm around the giantess beside him whom Loki could only assume must be his wife. Him displaying any kind of emotion seemed strange, but he cared little for it at the moment.

"Has she been good?" Loki asked.

"Sweet as summer fruit." Helblindi responded, "Never a problem, never a fight with my sons."

"You've been good, chickadee?" He turned to the child in his arms who nodded vigorously at the question and he and the others laughed. 

"There is also something that you must know, Loki." Helblindi added as he glanced at his wife. "Laila has magic that you probably know nothing about." 

"What do you mean?" He had not taught her magic as far as he understood. His own mother had not bothered to teach him until he was a bit older than Laila was at the time, and he pretended to do the same. She already was very interested in it, but he doubted that she could display any of it herself until she could at least spell her name properly. He turned from Helblindi to Laila who had her thumb in her mouth yet again as she rested her head against her father's shoulder.

"Loki," The giant said, "It was Laila who saved your life."

 


	4. Smuggler

Jotunheim was a dark place and everyone in the nine realms knew it. Jotunheim, with it's ominous shades of blues and blacks, with it's heartless creatures and mysterious inhabitants, was a place that no man wanted to visit by choice. Jotunheim was hell. Jotunheim was heartless.

But Jotunheim was also good business for a few select ones. For smugglers, thieves who preferred to make good business by living in the dark spaces between worlds and hiding from the eye of Asgardian security Jotunheim was a safe place. They were protected and in return all they had to do was provide the citizens of the barren wasteland of a world with products so cheap and easy to find yet so precious in a planet were it's people sometimes lacked food to eat. Smugglers were untouchable in Jotunheim, and queen Farbauti overlooked them because they were for the most part good. 

Yes, even the best trans-galactic smugglers spent their days in Jotunheim when trying to lay low; and it was the best whom Byleistr needed.

The message from his brother in the capital had arrived shortly after supper, as the giant sat before the dim blue lights of the fire near his home in Mother's Bay. He knew Helbindi wouldn't send a letter unless it was for a favor, seeing as they had become estranged since the death of his father. Since that day it was perhaps that Byleistr was not interested in governing, no he didn't think himself capable and thus would rather spend his days in peace. He had five daughters to tend for and a sixth one on the way, and thus with the blessing of his mother had chosen retirement in the edge of the sea. The city of Mother's Bay, his wife's home and the largest port of Jotunheim, became the center of his work as he sent resources to the Capital and lived a silent life away from the eyes of the citizens. He was happy here; he was at peace here.

With one hand, as the other was busy cradling the sleeping child leaning against him, the giant pried the letter open and read it briefly. He was silent as he did this and once he was done he gestured for the messenger to come forward. The other giant, decked in furs from his travels across the country bowed his head in silent respect as the other tapped the letter twice.

"Do you know of any _travelers_ coming to Mother's Bay?" Travelers meant smugglers. No one crossed the skies to come to Jotunheim unless they were smugglers.

"I heard word of two ships from Nornheim making their way next week sire." The Jottun responded, his voice courteous and calm.

Byleistr shook his head "I do not trust the Norns for this mission. They may sell us to the All-father and I can't afford that. No, I need word from between the realms."

"Sire, what exactly do you need them for?"

"Precious cargo." Was all the giant said with a sharp hiss, "I need you to find-"

A nurse made both giants' heads turn and for Byleistr to go silent. He glanced at the child and made a gesture for the tender-mannered nurse to take her off his hands. She was the youngest of his kin, this would be until the following summer however. As the little one was taken from him he released a small smile and then turned back to his messenger.

"I need you to find me the best of the best. We can not take any chances with this envoy." 

"There is a ship sire, but they are from the betweens." 

The betweens was a sailors' term that caused concern on the prince. It was used to refer to one of two things: the dark and dreary space between the nine realms were only the brave travelled, or a clandestine smuggling ship composed of a motley crew of individuals who knew how to make their way around the worlds without anyone knowing. These sailors were just as good as they were dangerous, and not to mention that they are particularly talented at transporting illegal cargo like weapons, slaves, gold, or dangerous creatures. They were criminals, but they were silent and they did what they were supposed to do.

Byleistr thought for a moment, "Who are they."

"The  _Zara_ , my lord."

"I want a word with the captain." He said as he stood up, breathing deeply as he made his way towards the window of his drawing room. "Tell him that I have cargo to give him of great value, and that we shall pay him ten times what he would take on a regular trip."

"I shall my lord."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Kramos." Byleistr's words were sharp and dry as the young messenger bowed his head with respect, "I don't want you bringing to me a madman for such a delicate mission."

Kramos paused for a moment before shaking his head, "Oh this is no man, sire."

* * *

 

The captain of the Zara was a strange sight indeed. She walked everywhere with her band of strange smugglers originating from the darkest corners of the galaxy and never spoke to anyone unless she had a very _very_ good reason to do so. It was rare to see her at all, more so it was rare to see her on her own, yet Kramos had managed to get her to wait for him in the back of a tavern in a dark corner of Mother's Bay. The captain, like any good smuggler, liked her liquor. Thus if Kramos was going to bring Loki to her it had to be on her own.

The plan was going perfectly. The trickster had arrived to Mother's Bay three days later with the child in arms and after a switch of transportation from horses to foot, the two giants and the babe were walking through the mostly barren alleys of the city. How it had all been done so quickly Kramos could not figure out, but he knew that his job wouldn't be over 'till the morning. Unless the Zara's captain decided to kill them both. 

The tavern, thanks to the intervention of Byleistr, was barren except for a couple lonely patrons who seemed to be too busy drowning their sorrows to notice the strange entrance of the two men, one carrying a bundle in his arms shaped like a child. It was a dark tavern, decorated with the horns of beasts and reeking of mold and wine. The bar-man, much to Loki's surprise, was not a jottun. Instead it was a horned white creature with fur covering it's entire body. He wouldn't inquire further for he had met the likes of sketchy barmen before in his misadventures with Thor, but what bothered him was bringing his daughter to a place like this.The child, thanks to some intervention by Helbindi, had been given an herb to help her sleep through the entirety of the journey. So far, Layla was sound asleep, stirring ocassionally yet unmoved by the horror that was the journey. 

In the back of the tavern was a figure, and by the manners of the giant who accompanied him he knew that this was the one they were looking for. Helbindi had informed him of what would happen; they would be taken to a middle realm for their safety and the safety of Jotunheim. He had not spoken much to him since he awoke from his trance, leaving him on his own to watch over his health as Layla played. His mother, Farbauti, had also seemingly dissapeared without a trace after a couple days since his return. He wrote him a very kind letter which he neglected to finish in an effort to keep some of his pride intact. Then, before they knew it, he was being ordered to a new hiding spot and here he was.

"Go to her my lord." The giant stated without much emotion. 

"You won't go with us?"

"I value my life." Kramos's words were swift as he turned back, bowed with courtesy and left the tavern in the blink of an eye. He was gone, and Loki was left alone as he carried the child in his arms towards the captain.

As he approached her he saw what she really looked like; she was lean, muscular, with dark curls on her head tied behind her, an aquiline nose, and an olive complexion which gave her a foreign appearance. She did not seem from any realm he knew, unless she was midgardian of course which he completely discarded. She had a small scar on her left brow and as he came forward and his eyes met hers he felt an extreme sense of defensiveness overcome him, as if she was about to leap up from the table and lunge towards him. She reminded him of a hawk, and he sensed in her enough unpredictability to keep him, from that moment on, on his toes.

He took a seat on the wooden chair before her as she refused to take her golden brown eyes off of him until they landed on the bundle in his arms. She pointed towards it and shook her head.

"Ain't no one ever said there was a kid involved."

She spoke with an unreadable accent he had never heard before. It was elongated and musical, and it flowed from her lips as if she were putting effort in moving her lips more than she had to. 

"There is. Otherwise there will be no transportation taking place." He responded dryly. "Do you often meet clients in dark alleys and sketchy taverns, Lady...?"

" _Captain_." She said, taking a swig of her drink. " _Captain_ Salome Raine, and it'd do you some good to remember that. No one ever said there's gonna be a baby involved, I didn't sign up for no baby."

 _Salome_. What kind of name was Salome?

"There are a thousand other smugglers who could do your job, it's not like you're particularly indispensable." His voice was thick with contempt. She was giving him trouble for his daughter and he would not tolerate that. It was her life that was at risk after all. "Has no one explained the situation to you, _Raine_?"

"I believe that I know this situation a whole lot better than you do, Lord Loki, but that don't make it any easier with the current circumstances." She paused for a moment, glancing at the child covered in a thick cape and swaddled to become almost invisible. "But I see how this is gonna go..."

"Will you take us or not? I will not leave without her no matter the impertinence of what a between-realm pirate may say to me." Impatience rang in his voice in a tone he had not used since adolescence. 

"What's the baby's name?" 

"What?" 

"The baby," She took another swig and pointed at Layla. "What's her goddamn name."

"Layla." He stated, attempting to read an unreadable expression that ran over Salome's face.

"Right, this is what we're going to do." She finished the glass, banging it down the table with a satisfied grunt as she folded her arms. "In an hour I'll come for you, and you'll be alone or otherwise we ain't doing this little transaction. Let no one see you leave. Y'all will come to the port and board and that would be the last you see of Jotunheim. If someone follows you, kill them."

 " _Kill them_?" Loki spat with wide eyes. "Are you absolutely mental? How am I supposed to do that with a child? In _front_ of a child?! No, we need to go now. I will not risk being followed without the means of protecting us simply because of your own ineptitude, _Salome_." He spoke her name as if it were a swear word, throwing it at her face with enough spite to make her arch a brow. Salome smiled, and for a moment he could have sworn, for reasons that he didn't understand, that he had seen that smile before somewhere. He didn't like it; that smile gave him a sour taste in the mouth,

"Alright. The ship ain't ready, the crew's mighty drunk, the way's dangerous, the engine's still calibrating and I haven't paid the barman yet. I wanted some time to get my shit together but I can work quickly if that's what you so desire your royal highness." A soft snicker poured out from her lips and he opened his mouth to speak before a palm was placed before him to hinder him from spewing out whatever venom he knew he was concocting.

" _But_." The smuggler said, index finger following up as she continued to speak, "I will oblige. Since they already done paid me I suppose it doesn't really matter much does it? I'm just saying that the Betweens ain't no place for no baby."

"Save your breath Raine." He responded, "We'll survive your crew. I've survived worse than a bunch of fifth-rate pirates and their smug girl-captain."

"They're good folk," She said without much force as she stood up, digging through the dark coat she had on to fish out some coins. He placed a bag on the table and made a gesture at the barman who nodded his horned head and said nothing in return. As she stood Loki caught a glimpse of something round her neck, a collar of some kind with an inscription in metal. He had seen that before in Midgard, but the current situation was far more distracting than whatever the necklace that Raine wore was.

"Follow me to the pier, it's only a short walk away. Don't look the sailors in the eye, and if you see a man wearing a paisley coat passed out in an alley somewhere you let me know."

"Friend of yours?" He hissed

"No, my first mate." She responded back.

The way out of the bar was simple, as Jotunheim was a quiet place at night due to the cold and thus they seemed unbothered as they made their way through the icy street. The temperature outside of the bar was completely unbearable and Raine seemed uncomfortable enough under the bitter cold as anyone in their right mind would. "The only downside of this land," She spoke mostly to herself rather than to Loki, "Is that it's cold as the devil's nut-sack and heartless like hell." Loki said nothing to her comment and instead opted for wrapping another arm around Layla as they walked. They had not changed out of their Jotun form since the day he awoke from the spell, and although he thought he would be used to it by now he found himself incapable of it. He would not look into mirrors, not even see himself in the reflection of ice if he could avoid it. Every time he looked at Layla she seemed happy, as any child would be even if she had blue flesh, but he was miserable. Still, he persisted on wearing the blue for her, after all if he displayed some love for his skin (even if it was a lie) the odds she would grow up to hate what she was would be null. At least that's what he was hoping for.

He followed her into a street, through the frozen alleys that leaked no sound and no warmth until they saw in the distance a deck of ships near a cliff. It hit him that the word pier was only a way of saying; there was no water and no ocean, it was the gate towards the middle of the worlds. The ships, all of different kinds and flavors, were levitating near the edge, guarded by a small group of men and a three headed hound the size of a stallion that lay on the ground breathing icy smoke through each of it's six nostrils. Only one of the heads lay awake, and seemed at ease upon seeing the two figures approach.

Three of the members of the group of six turned around at the sight of Salome, who dug through her bag before the hound and the giant that held his leash.

"Night there Krastas." She greeted,

"Cold night, even for these parts." The giant responded, "Leaving so soon? I thought you'd arrived here this morning."

"I'm only here on business." As she pulled her hand out, the head of the hound turned to her with sharp ears. Another head stirred at the sharp movement but then went back to sleep without a second glance. "Here you go boy." She tossed a small bone at the beast who bit into it like a hot knife through butter and settled it's head down between the other two. Krastas and two of the others laughed as Loki stared in disgust.

"Fluffy won't harm ye." One of the men said. "He only bites the ones worth bitin'" 

"He was a gift from lady Hela herself to guard the Smuggler's Pier." The giant holding ' _Fluffy's'_ leash remarked, "Though he doesn't do much more than snore and chew on my furniture."

"Oh here we go with that story again," A sailor who was missing an eye said, "Hela didn't give you that dog, you bought him for six pieces of gold and a pound of momerath bacon at an auction!" 

"Did not!" The giant hissed,

"Did too! I was there." The one-eyed sailor said, "And he's a fine guard dog if you ask me-"

" _Puppy_..."

The little voice caught the attention of everyone in the group as Layla's little head popped out from between the furs in Loki's arms. The one eyed sailor and the giant turned to each other while another, an older one, shook his head and glanced at Salome.

"Captain," He said in a low voice. "You know the Betweens is no place for a babe."

"No. Only the devil dwells in the Betweens.." She stated. "Call my crew, tell them that we leave now." 

Two of the men ran out, clearly out to look for the missing crew. Two more, the one-eyed sailor and the old man, began to make their way towards the ships as if they already knew what was coming. Loki turned to Layla, who rubbed her eyes with mitten-clad hands and looked around. 

"Come along Chickadee." Loki said, "We still have a long journey ahead of us.

He made his way towards the largest ship in the pier, the one that was appropriately named _Zara_. It was a copper beast with it's named etched in the side with black ink. The craft was winged, and aside from it's looming visage it reminded him of one of the planes that fly in Midgard more than it did a boat. Then again, to call it a ship was to do it in lieu of the broad sense of the word. It transported through large territories and that was enough to address these things as such. 

The side doors were opened and as Loki entered he was greeted with a windowed room big enough to easily fit fifty people. The metallic doors on either side were lined with a barreled device that Loki could only assume was some sort of weapon, and the walls were plastered with buttons and numbers that he could not read. On the front, towards the pointed end of the ship was a stand, whilst towards the front was a podium which he could pin point as the captain's control panel based on the ruins etched a-top it, and in the very front was command deck with the rudder's wheel. To his left was a flight of stairs which he could only assume led to the upper deck and behind him was another flight of stairs to the bottom of the ship.

Layla was in awe and with ease he settled the little girl down. His back gave a small twinge of pain as he did so for he had been carrying her since they had left Helbindi. She was not a heavy child but his arms were definitely sore. He stepped back as Layla walked towards the glass side to look at the stars and felt something bump his feet. When he turned around he saw a foot on the ground and around it was a paisley coat. The foot stirred and it's owner let out a ghastly groan as he sat up and stood up. He was a lean man with horribly tangled hair and a handsome face that confused Loki to no end.

"Oh God," He said rubbing his head, "I hate wine..." 

The man said nothing else as Salome's voice barked something unintelligible from the top deck. He rolled his eyes and shook his head to Loki as he walked towards the tip of the ship and sat down with a grunt on the seat before the wheel. He ignored the child and the movement of people and the screams and Loki lifted a brow as the paisley-clad first mate cracked his knuckles and began to mess with the buttons. 

Loki headed towards him, "Aren't you a bit drunk to be working the wheel of this ship?" He asked condescendingly. 

"Trust me, I've done far more intricate stunts in far less appealing states." The first mate responded with a laugh.

"Wonderful."

"Oh cheer up, Cargo!" He said before extending a hand, "I'm Bacchus."

"Loki." the other responded without reciprocating. 

"Well then, Loki." Bacchus said, "Are you ready to go to the Betweens? It's like Hel only worse."

A step behind Loki made them both turn as Salome stepped down, avoiding a crew member as he ran up behind her. Layla ran to her father, and for some reason as the doors closed behind the captain he allowed his skin to shift back to the the Aesir form he was used to. He couldn't afford to be uncomfortable here.

"Leave him alone, Bach." Salome said as she stood behind the captain's controls. "You're a drunk."

"Ah yes, I am a drunk." Bacchus muttered as he ran a hand over the wheel and let out a deep chuckle, "But clearly not a smart man. Otherwise, I would get another damn job."

"I assume the loot is good." Loki commented. "Don't see why anyone would want a new job."

"He's been threatening to quit for years." Salome added without looking up.

"The loot isn't the problem," Bacchus interrupted, "The problem is that you can go crazy in that void. I've done it, Salome's done it, and so will you soon enough."

Loki glanced at the stars and realized that the void could indeed make someone crazy. He realized that the void was a familiar place for him.

 

He realized then and their that one could go crazy if, suppose, one fell through it. He realized Bacchus was right just as the ship began to move.


	5. Animals

Vanamir bulls are a curious species. They are massive white winged beasts with bulky bodies, four horns, a wide snout, and six eyes that are covered by a clear translucent sheet that makes them seem as if they are blind. They are one of the few creatures that actually travel between worlds and no one is entirely sure why. Their migration patterns are one of the many mysteries of the seven realms, and scholars have attempted to understand it since the very beginnings of time. The bulls are passive and mostly vegetarian, stopping their perpetual journey to feed every century at a random location usually without any warning. They breed, sleep, live, and travel amongst the stars. To the Aesir they are a symbol of prosperity, to the dwarves they are an omen of bad luck. To the smugglers they were a guide across the realms, and the only ones who knew it were the smugglers themselves.

Loki had seen a vanamir bull once, long ago as an adolescent studying in Aflheim. He remembered it as a gift to the young princess Raehira; the youngest daughter of the king. That day, the entire court and guests had gathered to see the creature, tied from it's neck by a golden chain. It was a little one, a calf who had lost it's mother and had been captured in the edge of the world. All those present were in awe, but all Loki could feel was disgust. Here it was, a magnificent beast that was sacred to many locked up and taken far from it's home amongst the stars.

The calf died not long after, some say from a broken heart. Loki knew better, he knew that the calf had it's wings clipped and would not nurse from the feed his caretakers provided. He would never fly again. One night, he and Arved snuck into it's cage were the little beast was laying and coaxed it into eating poisoned snow grass. It's funny, because as hard as everyone was attempting to force the little beast into eating, it had accepted the grass with a single sniff. He was asleep and gone within minutes. He told few people the story, he told Thor and his mother and a few other friends while intoxicated over the years. He would never forget the calf though.

Perhaps he was a smarter animal than anyone ever thought.

Whilst the ship moved amongst galaxies, Loki thought about the little vanamir bull. He had remained in his bedroom through most of the trip so far, ignorant to the affairs of the crew and of it's queer captain. His daughter would come and go from her own room (she had demanded a room of her own ever since she had been capable of speech for reasons unknown to him) and cheerfully expressed her excitement of traveling through space. Every star, every planet, every galaxy filled her with childlike wonder that made Loki very happy.

Then one morning, Loki woke up to feel the ship was not moving. The sound of silence, of complete and utter stationary nonsense drove him to near panic in a matter of seconds and he was out of his room before he knew it. It only grew worse when he saw the door to Laila's bedroom open and no child inside of it.

"LAILA!"

The cry was demanding as he made his way across the ship, down towards the main deck were members of the crew was staring across the void. He saw his daughter's black hair in the arms of Salome Raine, whom he had not heard of for the past couple days. Before he knew it, he was storming to claim her back from the arms of the pirate before he figured out what the crew was looking at.

Vanamir bulls, a pack of at least a hundred making their way through the heavens as if floating. He did a double take, before calmly making his way towards were Salome and Bacchus and the rest were standing.

Bacchus was the first to notice him. One single glass from his violet eyes and a sigh.

"Look who has arrived." Bacchus said, crooked smile curling as he looked him up and down. "I had forgotten we had cargo here."

Salome and Laila turned in unison, the child's eyes bright at what she was looking at.

"Baba look!" She exclaimed "Vamee bulls"

"Vanamir bulls, chickadee." Loki said with a smile. "I suppose this is why we're not moving. Afraid to hit them, Bacchus?"

The driver snorted, "You kiddin' me?" He said, "First of all I'd 'ave to be a pretty shit driver-"

"Watch your tongue..." Salome hissed.

"-to hit one of these massive animals." Bacchus finished, disregarding the captain. "Not to mention, bulls are smart. They wouldn't let themselves get hit. No, the captain insisted on showing Laila the bulls."

Loki glanced at Salome, who held the child in her arms with confidence and without looking at Loki at all.

"The valkyries believe that they're spirits of victory in battle." She stated, "But what the hell do they know. Everything is about of victory in battle to the valkyries."

"What's a valkyrie?" Laila asked Salome, eyeing her with her thumb inching towards her mouth.

The captain looked at her with a pensive expression before answering.

"Soldiers." She replied, "Lady soldiers who ride flying horses. Don't become one, honey." and with that Salome pulled Laila's thumb out of her mouth gently and smiled.

"Why not?" Laila asked.

"Because they don't have lives outside being warriors." Loki replied. 'and they are raging cunts.' he would've added had his daughter not been there. "Chickadee, why don't you go to your chambers."

"Why?" the child asked, eyes wide with disappointment.

"The grown ups have to talk." He replied. Salome, at this, turned to Loki. brow lifted. Loki responded by staring back. Laila turned to Salome, eyes wide, pleading. Salome sighed, and shrugged at the child, lowering her down as she stared at both of them before making her way back to her room begrudgingly. She then gestured to the crew present to head away, the few others in the deck not hesitating at all as they quickly marched their way to the back of the ship where they belonged. Loki didn't take her eyes off the little one until she was down the hall, back to where she was supposed to be and then sharply, once he was alone with the captain and her alcoholic first mate, turned to Salome.

"Do you mind explaining me with what right you took my daughter out of her room without me knowing?" He snapped, voice sharp as the captain continued to stare ahead. "Do you also mind explaining me, Captain Salome, why in the name of hel you stopped this ship knowing full well that we are being hunted by half the population of the nine realms?! Do you realize what you would have-"

"Shut up Loki." She stated.

The god of mischief stared at her dumbfounded, before his blood pressure caught up with him and he felt the quite familiar feeling of his entire mind exploding in a wave of rage.

"Shut up?! YOU ARE ASKING ME TO SHUT UP WHEN I DO NOT KNOW WHERE MY DAUGHTER IS, SALOME!" His eyes glared at her, voice rising progressively as he continued his rant. "She is a child and in this ship packed to the end with smugglers and thieves and pirates any one of your dirty men could have pluck her up and you would have had a murder in your hands. You thieving, disgusting, ignorant halfbreeded gash... If you ever dare touch her again-"

"Bacchus continue the current course."

"-I swear to you that I will tear you limb by limb and destroy every little absurd thing you hold dear and make you understand just why I am the most wanted criminal in the nine realms. Do you understand that you-"

"Listen to me Loki, and listen to me well." The captain's smooth turn was almost dance-like as she was centimeters away from Loki's eyes. "If you think for a moment that one of my men will try to do anything to that child you clearly don't know me well enough. I'd have them quartered and left to the bite of the betweens before you even managed to open them poisoned laced lips of yours. I would like to remind you that you are in my ship right now and technically you and yours are my property. It really ain't in your best interest to insult me."

"It is not an insult if one speaks the truth, Captain." Loki hissed. "What will you do? Leave me to the mercy of the vultures and be chased down by the Jotunheim fleets?"

There was a pause. A moment of thought in Salome's mind before, much to Loki's surprise, Bacchus spoke. Loki had forgotten he was even there.

"Oh gods..." The driver spoke, "You didn't tell him?"

"No." Salome responded.

"Tell me what, Bacchus? What thing has our captain neglected to inform me of through the past eight days that I should have known before." He gave a laugh before glaring at Salome. For a moment, no one spoke. For a moment, Loki's anger left him and he thought clearly.

"You don't know a lot about ships Loki." Bacchus stated calmly, as if trying to make a point. "But I know everything a man can know about this and I can tell you that there were no vanamir bull trails between our original destination and our departing point."

"Original destination?" Loki echoed. "and why, pray tell, would we change destinations at this point in the journey."

"Because we are suicidal." Responded Bacchus, turning sharply at Salome.

"I don't hurt babies, that's why." She stated, "Had it been just you Loki, I'm perfectly honest, I'd have no problem giving you away to the damn Asgardians just like we were supposed to."

Loki's mind raced, the gears within it ticking.

"Like you were supposed to..." He repeated. There was another pause. The three of them looked at nothing. It was as if sudden realization had paraded it's way into the room and consumed Loki's mind. The other two were letting it all sink in, waiting for a response, for an act of rage, for a scream a shout an attack towards the captain.

Instead they heard him laugh.

It began as a soft chuckle, a giggle amongst the silence that grew and grew progressively until it had arrived into the territory of maniacal laughter. The other two turned to him in perfect unison, confusion and mild discomfort consuming them as Loki bent forward in his hysterical fit. To the god it was a matter of irony so intensely hilarious that to refrain himself from laughing was almost impossible. It was the funniest damn thing that had ever happened to him.

The other two glanced at each other quickly before Salome opened her mouth to speak.

"You alright there, sugar?" She asked.

Loki did not respond of course, he was laughing. For a while that was longer than necessary, the other two let him continue his fit before he finally straightened up, eyes filled with tears as he stared at Salome with a bizarre look on his face.

"Which one of them wanted to sell me, hm? Which one of my beautiful ice giant family members wanted to give me away to the great allfather and betray me just like my family members tend to bloody do? Oh please tell me, I have to know!" His smile was still present, his green eyes wide. His mind was blank, because a part of him knew that he had been through this so many times before that at this point it couldn't believe he was stupid enough to fall for it.

Salome hesitated for a second before answering with a statement that drove him further into this state of blankness.

"The queen." She said. Bacchus glared at her as if she was spilling some deeply hidden secret. "If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure the reason your brother chose us to take you instead of a realm's ship is because betweeners don't sell children. It's sort of like... um..."

"Honor amongst thieves?" Bacchus said, "It's an unwritten rule you know?"

"Yeah that."

"And what wonderful soul it is you have, Captain Salome!" He said with another burst of laughter, sarcasm leaking through his words. "Oh this is beautiful... just..." For a split second his smile fell and a look of absolute resignation landed on him, as if he had made his peace with it already. "...beautiful."

He began to walk away before it had all sank in to the other two. They stared at the felon, the god of mischief, until he was out of sight. Then Bacchus in his still alcohol infused confusion, glanced at his captain.

"What was that..."

Salome sighed and returned her eyes to the other.

"That was what happens when you tell the truth, Bacchus baby." She patted his shoulder and stared at the course ahead

The very unnerving course ahead.

 

* * *

 The gates of Asgard's throne room sounded these days like the vowels of Hel.

When Fandral stepped foot inside, he was immediately consumed with the feeling that he had just arrived before the goddess of death herself rather than the king of the nine realms. The throne room, once a place were heroes were rewarded with fantastic honors and the wicked were condemned to punishments that exuded justice was now something close to a battlefield. Odin's madness, if anyone dared call it that, could be sensed in every corner of the massive golden pillars of Asgard's throne room. As the golden haired hero made his way humbly dressed without any armor to the king, he saw as Odin's face curled into a smile. As if by some strange force, Odin stood up, walking with the clink-clank of his staff by his side as he faced Fandral just as the warrior stood feet before him. The Dashing bowed, incapable these days to take his eyes off the king without fearing for his life.

"My liege." The warrior said, "Have you sent word for me?"

"Do you think me an idiot, warrior?"

The question took Fandral by surprise. Had it been a friend of his who had asked it he would have said yes, laughed, or made a sly joke. Instead it was the mad king, and thus Fandral smiled and shook his head, careful with what he spoke now more than ever.

"By no means my Lord."

"True." The king said stepping towards him before grasping Fandral's shoulder with a strength that mirrored Thor's to a dangerous degree. "I am no idiot."

He pulled the warrior towards him and to the hall behind the throne, and as he did he not once took his hand off fandral's shoulder. The warrior wasn't entirely sure what was frightening him the most; being alone with Odin or the seemingly unreadable nature of the situation. Most likely it was the former.

"Have you ever heard of the king's trophy hall, Fandral?" Odin asked, voice low and curious. "Have you ever heard of the things it possesses?"

"Of course my liege." Fandral responded, and he did. The King's Trophy Hall; a place were the greatest riches in the universe gained over millenia by the great Asgardian kings was kept. The Teseract amongst hundreds of others, the hide of the nemean lion, the gold of the Lower Realm Dwarves... It was a thief's wet dream.

"Well what is it then? Tell me, you were educated by the noble tutors were you not child, you must know."

"The room of the palace holding the greatest riches won over by Asgardian kings in battle." Fandral's regurgitated text-book definition was wrapped in a layer of fear due to the sheer insecurity of were this conversation was leading to.

"Ah my boy, you are wrong."

"Pardon?"

Odin stepped and halted before a golden gate protected by a small clear layer of white. It was shielded with magic, and Fandral had a good thought as to where it led to. As Odin drew symbols with his hand on the door, Fandral looked around for an escape, interrupted only by the words of the king.

"Did you think, warrior, that I would not notice you attempting to save Loki behind my back?" He asked. Just as he said this, the golden gates opened revealing the hundreds of treasures held inside the dazzling trophy hall. Fandral did not see them, instead he saw only into Odin's deep dark eye with as much courage as he could muster.

Fandral said nothing in response.

"I have little birds in the nine realms, I had him just were I wanted him. You thought I wouldn't figure out it was you?" Odin turned to Fandral, who with big beautiful blue eyes glazed with fear could only stare back. "I won't kill you, Fandral the dashing."

"My lord?"

"No. Instead how about I give you a history lesson."

Just as before, Odin took hold of Fandral's shoulder and pushed him into the trophy hall. The warrior looked around at the beauties and said nothing, jewels and gold splattered towards most of it, and in several pedestals were many of the most powerful objects ever held by a man or god. Fandral recognized many from books or from stories, however one pedestal lay barren towards the back. He could only notice it after he saw Odin step towards it.

"You see my boy, the trophy hall doesn't just hold the prizes won during times of war." The king began. "It also holds those won over during periods of _peace_ , during times of prosperity and growth, and above all during those of great fortune for more than one realm. Sometimes we have to trade treasures for this to happen."

Fandral took a step towards the pedestal, placing a hand on the side of the marble structure to sturdy himself. It was then that Odin took the god's hand and slammed it against the surface of the pedestal. A bitter cold consumed Fandral's hand as if he had just lay a hand on a block of solid ice and then it hit him.

"The Casket of Ancient Winters."

"Aye." Spoke the king.

As he held down the warrior's hand on his wrist, in a flash of black and with a speed worthy of a talented young warrior, Odin stabbed something into Fandral's hand, piercing through the flesh and into the solid marble underneath. Fandral let out a yelp more out of shock than pain. He had suffered worst injuries before but this did not mean that the wound wasn't painful. In fact the wound hurt quite a bloody bit. But not enough for him not to grit his teeth and stare Odin in the eye.

" _This..._ is an obsidian blade that belonged to prince Helbindi of Jotunheim. He gave it to us as a symbol of peace."

"Peace?" Fandral spat.

"Yes, child." The king traced the crude handle of the black blade, a beautifully carved metal held by a white bone wrapped in furs. "You see we offered the Casket and in return they gave what they had to give."

"She's a **child**."

The king looked at the warrior, eyes cold for a moment. The broad hand of Odin was still wrapped around the handle of the knife as Fandral struggled and spoke. Odin sighed deeply, as a father would when attempting to explain something to a stubborn child. Fandral wondered how many times Loki had to hear that sigh growing up. He also wondered why this was the thought that consumed him at the current moment.

"Children grow." Odin said as his grip on the handle tightened. "Children are like _dogs_. You feed them; you raise them, and they become loyal to you forever. They will die for you, biting back the pain they feel while they protect you to their dying breath. Dogs love their masters with unconditional fury; they see no killers or liars or thieves or rapists or monsters, they see instead the being who loves them and feeds them and has cared for them since they were mere pups. Since they were _children_. Hurt a dog's master, and the dog will come back and bite because it is in their nature to do so. Thus, to protect from the mad dog when you know you are to kill it's master.." Odin twisted the knife, generating a sharp gasp from Fandral as the marble underneath his hand cracked and trickled thick with blood. "You must kill the dog first."

"Don't call her an it."

"Hm?"

"Her name is Laila." Fandral hissed. "She is a babe of three, she can't even _read_ yet."

"Don't tell me it was because of a child that you never met that you sought to protect Loki." Odin made a gesture with his hands, and Fandral heard the sound of marching soldiers coming into the throne rooms. "Even warriors have selfish motives sometimes. Perhaps those days out in the fields practicing runes left you two a little more than friendly with each other. He was always into what he couldn't have."

The soldiers gripped Fandral by the shoulders before the warrior could even see them. His blood now dripped freely down the top of the pedestal and just as he glanced up to the king, Odin pulled back the knife.

"The smugglers bring Loki and his mutt over soon. I just received word that they left Mother's Bay days ago. Perhaps it would be torture enough for you to know you have led them straight into the lion's mouth." The soldiers propped Fandral up as the king spoke. "But alas, treason is not cured in such a matter. Take him to the dungeons, let no healer tend to his hand. I want the wound to gangrene until the entire arm has to come off."

"They're his family... She's his mother, why–"

"Oh don't be daft." Odin said waving a hand. "It is easy to give up a bastard for the sake of a realm. I should know, for I let the same bastard fall down the bifrost. Now, off you go Fandral the Dashing. I will figure out what to do with you some other time. Until then, to rot in the dungeons it is."

Fandral was dragged between screams of "You're a Monster!" and "She's a child!" Before he knew it, Odin was alone in the throne room with no one in his submission and a sinking feeling of satisfaction that was blooming in his chest as his only companion.

"Dogs come back and bite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering whether her name is Layla or Laila then you should know that it's Laila. The thing is that I'm an idiot aaaand apparently don't know my own character's name. Sorry for that.


	6. Nature

The knock on Loki's door came a day after the news of what had actually happened in Jotunheim. He had barricaded himself in his room surrounded by the few books that the crew had managed to provide for him and his own thoughts, which were a problem of their own. He had considered over the course of the last day just what this had meant, just what his blood had done to him and his child and why. A part of him was not surprised, as if he had been hit so many times before in this fashion that his nerves had turned to stone and betrayal rubbed off him like water off a duck's back. Another part of him however, the part of him that still had a heart, wanted vengeance and blood and retribution. He knew he'd never have it. He knew that at this point the list of people that he wanted to kill was only getting longer, and he knew that killing them would do nothing for his own soul. He could hang the heads of the entire jotnar royal family and he would still feel like his life had no meaning. 

The most important part, he figured, was that vengeance would not protect Laila.

_Laila_ , three years old, ignorant of the evils of the world. Laila who liked snow and horses and dolls and the stars. Laila who grew smarter every day, who could now count to thirteen with some effort, who still laughed like the entire universe did not matter. Laila who was the only thing that kept Loki from going completely and irrevocably mad.

He paused for a moment, glancing down at the seventeen pages of the book he had not even bothered to pay attention to. He turned to the door and said nothing as it opened, allowing for Salome to step into the room in silence as he kept his eyes within the pages of his mediocre novel.

"We're stopping at a station to refuel." She said, formality on her lips. "I thought you'd want the time to stretch your legs."

"And risk having every bounty hunter catch my scent? No thank you, Captain. I'm not quite suicidal as of yet." Loki's voice was dry as he flipped a page.

"Alright, suit yourself." Salome stated. Loki waited for a moment, expecting her to leave and when she did not and instead stood amongst the silence of the room he tilted his chin up and connected his steely gaze with hers.

"Can I help you with something else?" He said. "Or are you here to get a cry out of me."

"I wanted to see how you were feeling." She said, shrugging.

"Oh well now isn't that sweet." The god rolled his eyes, "Sell me to the Asgardians and then wonder how I'm feeling why don't you. I'm perfectly fine, _mother_ , if that soothes your heart's concerns."

"Good." She stated, sitting on the foot of the bed, "Now since you're feeling clearly chipper 'nuff to talk to me, how about I make you a proposition."

Loki stared at her as if she had just grown a set of horns out of the blue. Outrage was about to boom from his throat but just as he was about to go at her, the captain of the Zara lifted a hand and beat him to it.

"We literally have a very, _very_ limited amount of places to take you where you will not be found." She stated, "Most are simply uninhabitable or not in our range. After much consideration on behalf of me and Bacchus, we decided that we can take you to a single place with complete certainty that you won't be found easily and where you and that baby will be safe."

"And of course you discussed this without me."

"You were to busy dealing with your angst so we sorta made the decision for you. You're welcome." She remarked with a smile before glancing down at her hands. "You ain't gonna like it though."

"At this point in my life I'm not entirely sure I'm going to like anything I'll hear from you."

"We're going to motherfuckin' Jackson Tennessee."

" _Eh_?"

"Midgard, Loki." Salome said, standing up. "Jackson, Tennessee, Midgard. The middle of buttfuck nowhere where I am positive you will never be found. No one goes to Jackson Tennessee unless they're lost."

There was a moment in Loki's mind where he was sure he heard the captain of the Zara tell him that they were going to Midgard. He had to actually stop himself from laughing because there was absolutely no way that she was suggesting to take him to the place where he had wrecked havoc and a half a decade or so ago. It would take seconds for SHIELD or some other absurd little conglomeration of "heroes" tracked his face down amongst the normal midgardian populace. Salome had to be an idiot to think for a moment this would work and that one of them would not notify Thor within minutes of his arrival that he was in that miserable excuse of a planet. If his calculations were precise and this entire rubbish idea actually went through, then he would be chained to a prison wall in Asgard with two golden armed guards flogging him whilst Odin read his sentencing all in a matter of twenty four hours.

  
He told Salome this with a straight face, a calm demeanor, and a long array of insults in about fourteen different dead languages splattered across it like sugar over a pie. This whole conversation seemed more like two acquaintances talking about the current weather than a couple of criminals insulting each other whilst trying to figure out where to smuggle the most wanted felon of the nine realms.

"So tell me again why this is a good idea?" He said again whilst turning down to his book which remained over his crossed leg the entire time throughout his speech. "I'm dying to hear your point."

"My sister in law is a witch."

"Well don't all women hate their in-laws, darling."

"No jackass," She continued, "She's an actual witch, and one of the best as a matter of fact. I'm not entirely sure how that whole deal works, but she married my brother. She could hide anything or anyone, and she has a little girl about Laila's age."

Loki listened to her speech with a raised brow and thought for a second. Magical creatures exist in all worlds, that was a fact. _Witches_ however, in Midgard of all places? It seemed strange, odd, borderline impossible. Yet he did not think Salome was lying. She may be hard to read, he figured, but she was not impossible. She was telling him the _truth_.

"How do you know this is going to work?" He asked, left hand closing the cover of the ignored book.

"She hid me for years." Salome stated, standing up. "From Heimdall himself-"

"-Why would Heimdall be looking for you?" Loki interrupted. The thought of the enigmatic bridge keeper who had not been a thought in his mind for many moons now looking for a random smuggler for any reason at all was a far more interesting thought than whatever else Salome was trying to talk to him about. She paused for a moment before turning back to him, brow raised. She seemed confused, as if she was stating something obvious. For a long time Loki and her locked eyes, it was far too long before Loki began noticing something strange; he noticed something about her that he should have noticed a long time ago. Salome Raine's eyes were not some shade of golden brown as he had thought when he first met her; her eyes were golden, almost like embers, and for a split second he could swear her eyes shone like a flame. In the bedroom light he could see their color and he made the sudden realization that he had most definitely seen those eyes before.

"...what is he to you?" He asked, noticing at last the tan complexion, the way she talked to him like she knew better, the fact that she travelled between the realms. He wondered who her mother was. He wondered if Odin ever knew of her existence. He wondered just how the hell she had come to be.

Salome smirked, turning to walk away whilst replying in a sing-song voice. "None of your damn business." She laughed a laugh that he knew Heimdall would never produce and opened the door. "We're stopping in an hour, so make up your mind."

_Naughty, naughty gatekeeper._

* * *

 

The station in question was, according to Salome, one of the smaller ones. It resembled a small village, a port more like, with it's citizens used to the motley crew of smugglers that came and went through it like a whore's clients. Men, women, and children lived around the ships and cared for them. Their economy was built on the things that smugglers brought, sold, and bought from them and brothels, bars, shops and fuel suppliers seemed to be the most booming of businesses. Loki had felt a vibe like this when he used to sneak out to Asgard's outskirts. Even the world of worlds had it's marginal district, with peddlers and black markets and questionable pubs and normal, common folk who cared little for the affairs of the great nobles in the palace. When he felt like the palace was becoming too much for him, when the whispering behind his back and the bad looks where everywhere, when he fought with Thor over issues bigger than he could actually understand, he used to change into commoner's clothes and walk through Asgard's outskirts. There no one knew him, no one cared who he was. Maidens would not use him to get to Thor, soldiers would not make jokes at his expense, nobles would not shake their head in disappointment. In the outskirts he was only another commoner, another stranger. 

Loki thought of this part of his life as he sat outside of one of the inns, watching as Laila played with her doll. Yes, the station was much like the outskirts of Asgard, and just like in those days there would come a time where he'd have to leave and go back to the life he was living. He could pretend all he wanted that he was a common man, a man with no enemies, no struggles greater than working to provide for a family, a man without power or madness or a _name_ , but in the end he'd have to go back to the real world and face it all again.

"Baba," The little one's voice brought him back to reality, causing him to glance down at her to her spot on the floor. 

"Hm?" He asked, face softening when turning to the child.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, hands still twisting the locks of the doll on her lap. "Your face is all weird."

"Oh nothing chickadee," Loki reassured the child, "Just thinking."

"About what?" Laila insisted, looking down to keep playing with the doll, making the little toy dance before her.

"About a place like this I used to know," He said with a sigh, "Back when I was younger, long before you were born. Did you finish your soup chickadee?" 

The child did not answer, causing Loki's brow to raise. He turned to her, seeing her fixate on something before her. Loki turned to see, concerned for a second that she were looking at a soldier or a robbery or something of that nature. What Loki saw instead was a group of children playing some sort of variation to cops and robbers. He turned to his daughter for a second, thought consuming him. "Darling?" He began, arms folding before him. "You know you can play with them if you want, right dear?"

The little one did not answer, turning instead to him with wide eyes. "I-I don't want to play with them." She responded.

Loki scoffed, confused. "Laila it's okay, just don't wander off alright dear?" 

"No." The child responded promptly and turned back to her doll. Loki was at a loss. His brow furrowed as he glanced from the children to his daughter back to his wine goblet. He considered for a second that Laila had never had proper socialization with children... _ever_. She had spent the entirety of her life running from realm to realm with only few people to talk to, and in fact aside from Helbindi's sons (who were all much older and bigger than her) she had never really played with children her own age. The realization hit Loki like a smack to the face. 

"Laila go play with them." He found himself saying to the child.

"But Baba-"

"Now. Go." His hand was extended forward, eyes stern on the child. "I want you to go play. Give me the doll and go."

Laila's eyes were wide and confused. She glanced down at her doll before looking back up at him again. "Baba!"

"Now, child." 

The little one stood up like somebody who had just been condemned to death, walking over to her father with the doll firmly grasped in her hands. Loki saw tears welling up from his daughter's eyes and he saw that she was scared. "But Baba..."

"Oh I know chickadee." He leaned down, hand taking the doll from her arms and in a matter of seconds, the child's arms were extended forward as if ready to be picked up. Loki stared at her for a second before shaking his head. His heart heavy the instant she reached out for him. It was very hard not to comfort her, it went against every fiber of his being not to swoop her in his arms and let her cry as he told her it would be okay, but he knew he had to be stern for her own good.

"No darling." He said, "No, you have to play with children your age. Now go."

And just like that her brows fell, anger clearly rising from her as she stomped off, tears gone as if they were never there. The little one was before the children when he caught another angry glance from her. Shock had not entirely set in before he heard a sharp and familiar laugh coming from a few feet away.

"She has you played like a fiddle." 

Salome's voice was like salt on a wound, his face turning into one of sheer annoyance at the sight of her approaching. She walked with a certain gait to her he realized, as if she knew better than anyone else in the room. 

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree does it?" She said as she took a seat before him.

"Yes well," He said, glancing at the doll. "I didn't think she would... hm."

"Be smarter than you?"

"Oh shut up." He took a gulp of wine as he glanced at Laila with the children; his daughter stood alongside the others whilst the eldest of the girls explained the game. 

"Let me ask you something," She began, hand waving at the inn-keeper as she gestured for a drink. Something told Loki that regardless of what he answered she would ask anyway. "Do you ever deny anything to that child?"

"Well of course I-"

"Don't lie." She said, Loki rolled his eyes. "You spoil that kid to death, you even let her have her own room."

"How I raise my daughter is none of your business." He hissed, "Just because Heimdall did not raise you, that does not mean you can analyze my own parenting, _Captain_."

"Oh but it does." Salome responded. Loki scoffed, annoyance settling in once again. "See Loki, if I were to be knocked up-" she knocked on the table and continued "-and I gave birth to a child, I would proceed to treat that child exactly how I wished I was treated when I was growing up."

"Ah so now you think Odin has to do with this."

"I don't think, I _know_." 

"You're right about that, Captain." He said, eyes narrowed at her. He had already figured it out in the past that he wanted to be nothing like Odin was as a parent and it did not take a genius to figure out why. "I'm trying to be the father I never had because the one I had was shite. That does not take a lot of effort to realize."

"And in doing so, you're making the mistakes Odin did not make." Salome responded. The inn keeper handed her a goblet and she downed half of it in one gulp.

"Oh am I now." He was unamused at her statement. "I'm making my mistakes, not his. Very good observation Captain."

"Mmmhmm." She said, voice thick as she swallowed. "Now you give your daughter the care and attention you did not receive, which is good because that child knows she is loved. The problem with that is that unlike you and me, who grew up having to fight for scraps of affection, she will have to grow up feeling like the world owes her something. Spoil her if you will, but then she'll grow up and be an impossible brat."

"And did _we_ not turn out to be impossible brats." Loki snapped back.

"No we're a different type of brat. We're deceiving, lying, stealing brats. The kind of brat that breaks the law and sets cities on fire and hates themselves because they did not get enough love in their childhoods." She paused for a moment. "She'll be a decent person, she'll just not know how to survive and she'll depend on others to do so."

"Ah yes I love it when we talk about my daughter as if you even know her at all." He snapped. "Laila is a good kid."

"She just tried to trick the trickster!" Salome said with a laugh, "She's three and she's already crying crocodile tears. I can't wait 'till she turns fifteen and she has you wrapped around her little finger and she's bringing boys to the house and-"

"Oh by the nine- would you shut up?" He gulped the wine and groaned. "What is it about you? Why are you so invested in getting under my skin. Do you just not like me? Why can't you shut up?"

Salome shrugged in response, "I actually think you're quite the man, Loki." She chuckled whilst Loki rolled his eyes again. "I respect you for raising a child under the circumstances. In fact, if you didn't have such a stick up your ass I'm pretty sure you and I could even be friends-"

"-sometimes I want to kill you. Slowly.-"

"-and you know what, I don't think we're too different. We both have severe daddy issues, we're both criminals, we're both in complicated circumstances with our families. I might get under your skin and you might be the burden I never wanted to carry, but this could be worse. Despite everything you know I still feel that at any second one of us is going to try to double cross the other. We might have a good reason to do so, but even then one of us is going to stab the other in the back."

"You think?" Loki asked, voice low.

"I _know_." She responded. "It's in my nature. It's also in yours."

"I'm very tired of hearing you compare yourself to me, _Captain_." He stated darkly. "You and I are nothing alike."

"We're both bastards. We're both criminals. We're both in this to protect the same person." They both, as in unison, glanced behind them to look at Laila. Laila who chased after an older boy with laughter on her face and dirt on her knees

"But as usual you are right Loki, we are different." She smiled as she stood up, digging through her purse to find the appropriate currency to pay for her goblet. "One of us is Captain of the ship whilst the other is cargo." 

"Go to Hel, Salome." Loki stated. 

"Same to you, Loki." Salome returned.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Fandral's voice was like a whisper, hoarse, and uttered by a man who had endured enough pain to take his speech away. What remained of the sweet, melodic rhythm of the dashing warrior's voice was more like what remains at the bottom of a plate after a grandiose meal has just been devoured, crumbs and bones. Loki heard it in his dreams, he heard it alongside the laughter of his daughter with the children on the streets of the station. He heard it alongside the drunken singing of Bacchus as he drove through the betweens. He heard it alongside the advise and warnings of Captain Raine as she stared at him with her golden eyes. He heard it alongside his mother's lullaby as she stroked his hair when he was ill with a childhood cold. He heard it alongside Thor's booming battle cry as he managed to defeat a sparring partner. He heard it alongside Wanda's moans as he pressed his lips against her flesh. He heard it alongside Thanos's threats when he pulled him out of the abyss. He heard it alongside Hela's cackle as they both battled for his soul. He heard it clearer than he had ever heard anything before in his life. 

                                   " _Dogs come back and bite_."

 


	7. Southern

Sitting on his front porch, an icy beer in his hand, the sweet scent of magnolias lacing the southern air, Donny thought for a moment that his world was at peace. He had gotten used to New Orleans pretty quickly since he moved to the old house that his wife was running as a super-not-so-secret witch coven. He wasn't interested in meddling into Delia's affairs, nor was he ever planning on doing so. As far as he and everyone else in this city was concerned, Donny was the _normal_ one of the two. He glanced at the condensation dripping down the side of the corona in his hand and smiled because being normal was all he ever wanted. It had been years since he had to worry about any major riot or shenanigan caused by his own "demigod" condition. He was good at fixing cars and occasionally playing handyman for the house full of witches who all somehow didn't know how a plunger or a wrench worked. Maybe it was his taste for calm and serenity that had drawn Delia to him, or maybe it was because he had golden eyes. He couldn't really pin-point the reason, but she rarely ever complained so that was good enough for him.

He considered for a moment how it had all come to this. How fifty or sixty years ago when he and his sister were running amok, causing havoc, stealing and laughing and drinking, everything was far less thought out. Everything was far easier before their father died. Everything was far less intense. He drowned the knot in his throat with another sip of beer. 

' _You're being a sissy, Donny._ ' he would say. ' _This world ain't fit for sissies_.'

He was a good man, a tough man, an exceedingly _difficult_ man. It was funny how much Aldo was compared to Sal when they weren't actually related. Back in the day it was a lot for a man to take in another man's kids. It would have made him one outstanding man in the community had the Raine kids not been half black. Sal could almost get away with it had it not been for the thick curls on her head, but Donny definitely could not. He had his sister's golden eyes, but his skin was a bit darker, his curls were a bit tighter, his lips were a bit thicker. It was hard but god almighty knows that he wouldn't have been able to do that without Dad. Maybe that's why they changed so much after he died, maybe that's why Sal went AWOL, why he gave it all up for a mechanic's life, why Delia says he's always more pensive during the spring. He didn't really know in the end. 

"You're being difficult again." 

Delia's voice, motherly and strong, sounded behind him like a morning alarm. He didn't even bother turning around when he heard it, he knew her even if he couldn't read minds like she could. 

"I thought you were teaching telekinesis or something." He responded with a sigh. The blonde witch walked towards him, heels clicking underneath her feet. He had gotten good at reading Delia's movements, listening to the sound of her breath, the rhythm of her steps, the scent of her hair. Her soul was very particular to him, and he always knew where it was thanks to the good ole All-seeing eye of his father. Not that he cared too much for finding anyone, he didn't use his abilities much these days.

"Well I tried, but Zoe has it covered for now." A hand slid over his shoulder and almost instinctively he reached out for it. His cold palm turned warm over her touch and he took another drink. 

"What happened, that shit can't be too hard for you to do." He looked up at her before setting the bottle down. "You're the Supreme, babe."

She smiled before rolling her eyes, causing him to laugh lightly. He poked fun at it because he didn't entirely understand the ways of the witches, and Delia let him laugh because it was innocent after all. She knew that he wasn't cheating on her or mass-murdering witches, he only thought that  _descensum_ was a funny word. It could always be worse.

"Your sister spoke to me."

The words caused a frown to form on Donny's face. Salome contacting Delia was always concerning for quite a number of reasons. The main one was that Sal didn't contact them unless she was involved in some deep shit. It had happened twice before, once when their father had been found dead and the other when the bifrost was broken. He hadn't seen her since that last one.

"Who the hell did she piss of this time?" He sighed.

"Odin." Delia responded simply, causing Donny to stare at her for a solid ten seconds before he snorted in response. The witch sighed as she turned to sit on his lap, Donny adjusting himself to fit her as he shook his head. 

"And how did she do this?"

Delia shook her head, "She was vague, said something about refusing to give up a child for Odin to kill and how she needed a place to hide them."  She reached for his beer, downing two drinks before turning back to him. "I can't believe you drink this watered down nonsense."

"You know Heimdal won't be happy to know we're getting involved in some Odin fugitive bullshit, right?" He took a deep breath as she folded her arms. 

"Well I told her they could stay."

"Who the hell is _they_."

"the child and her father."

"Who the hell is the father?"

Delia shrugged, "You know Loki? The one who-"

"Is this that guy who almost destroyed New York City and tried to kill Thor?" 

"Yeah that one."

Donny paused for a moment, considering all the information for a second before sighing. 

"Alright then." He took a drink before shrugging, "Why am I always the last one to know anything?"

* * *

 

"I had a dream last night."

The comment caught Bacchus by surprise and he turned around to see the god of mischief himself staring into the distance like a lost puppy. It had been a while since the strange jottun had shown his face around his ship, and by now they were all used to his depressive and elusive personality. Bacchus himself believed that perhaps it was Loki's nature that had driven most of the crew out of the Zara in the first place; it was that or the fact that they were harboring a fugitive. He was going to guess that it was probably the latter, but he assumed that Loki not exactly being a delight wasn't actually helping. He didn't mind, he preferred working alone anyway. Not to mention that the reasons as to why Salome had overstocked the ship with staff in the first place was mostly an intimidation tactic against other smugglers, but maintaining her reputation wasn't important anymore to anyone.

"I don't have time for your shit, Loki." Bacchus responded.

The God rolled his eyes before he stepped towards him. "Do you always have to be so nasty?"

"Hi my name is Bacchus and I'm an alcoholic, nasty is all I have." The other responded.

There was silence for a bit between them. How Loki had ended up in this position he had no idea. How he had ended up between two hateful individuals in a ship floating through space for no good reason was far beyond him. If he wasn't looking out for his own daughter he would have murdered everyone already and he was sure that a part of Bacchus knew this already. They were very alike both the god and the conductor, hateful and mean and in their own ways self destructive. Bacchus sure would sleep with him should the opportunity arise and Loki figured this out after the conductor firmly grabbed his ass and whispered a very nonchalant "Is everything 'bout you giant?" before stumbling his way back to his chambers to pass out. It would have probably done something for him had the man not been reeking of wine and desperation, and should Loki have more years of abstinence under his belt than the ones he was already collecting.

He considered this for a second, it had been a while since his last little rendezvous. Quite a while indeed. It wasn't possible that Wanda had been his last shag but... perhaps she had been? Nearly four years of raising Laila had drained him of most selfish desires (such as sleep) but he hadn't placed much thought on how little action he had been getting over the course of the past four years. The thought puzzled him, even worried him a bit. A while back he was known for his promiscuity, making him wonder how he managed to not have more children than the ones he had already produced. Sure, Thor and Fandral were conquerors in the bedroom, champions with women and known for their slight womanizer reputations (perhaps Fandral a bit more than Thor), but Loki however was, often referred to more as a deviant, almost pervert, even though he was perhaps far less successful than either Fandral or Thor in that department. He enjoyed women and men equally, garnering the distaste of many in the nobility if he wasn't being fetishized already. His conquest were fewer but far more scandalous than anything Thor could claim. If you'd call them conquests, because more often than not it was all a matter of others seeing if they could get in his pants. Once he was of no use to them he was discarded, and he accepted it with all the decorum of a prince and far more pride than one could muster. 

There were a few who stood out for being either unorthodox or simply painful. Wanda was one such conquest, but he wouldn't think much of that for the time being. There was the elven prince who's relationship with Loki dwindled into a friendship of sorts and whom Loki could not for the life of him find him attractive any longer. There was a very high profiled warrior who quite literally managed to fuck his way up to the top through Loki and then managed to never speak to him again after finding his way into Odin's court. There were the two dwarves he woke up next to after a night of very heavy drinking for Thor's birthday one spring. There was one young maiden who was madly in love with Thor and neglected to tell Loki this as she took his virginity, allowing him to promise her the moon and the stars and managing to secure an engagement with her. Loki had married her with his father's support, and perhaps if his mother had not found out his young bride had already somehow managed to wiggle her way into Thor's bed months after the wedding then maybe they could have even been happy together. He was young back then, heart broken, with a very confused Thor on his knees begging forgiveness. Thor hadn't known it had been Sigyn whom he had fucked that drunken night; Frigga only managed to find out by tracing the spell the young woman had used to disguise herself. It was a spell Loki had taught her. Now that is one fantastic story to remember.

Perhaps it was good that he was refraining from sticking his cock into anything that moved these days, it was a sort of cleanse from the centuries of bad reputation. It's not like he was starving himself, he could survive without sex. He glanced over at the driver of the Zara, hand reaching under the seat for where he kept his trusty bottle. He knew that Bacchus was always either hungover or drunk, and he wondered how a man could live his life like that every day. He wondered what went through his dulled brain, and he also wondered why in the hell the idiot of Raine kept him behind the wheel of her precious ship. It was pure madness to consider.

As if by some divine intervention, the marching steps of the captain made their way behind him and towards the command room. Loki turned to see her enter, curls tied behind her head for a change. He considered their relationship and refused to delve deeper into that puddle. They were both horribly complicated and uninteresting people. How bored was he that he was starting to psychoanalyze Raine and Bacchus?

"Salome you'll never believe this." Bacchus began as the captain glanced over the coordinates plugged into the screen before him with very little interest. "Loki over here has had a dream."

"Hm," Salome muttered, "I had a dream once. I wanted to be a dancer when I was a girl. Look at me now..."

Loki rolled his eyes at both of them. "I just thought it was a strange dream that's all."

Bacchus from his seat scoffed whilst Salome, looking at Loki as if to amuse him raised a brow and smiled. 

"Go on baby tell us about your dream." She said as she tinkered with the screen, pressing buttons and calibrating whatever in Hel's name she was calibrating. Loki rolled his eyes at them, remaining silent. 

"Forget it."

Salome chuckled before lifting her face up. "I had a dream with an old fling last night." She began. Bacchus from his seat laughed, muttering something about Salome's promiscuity before she continued. "At least I think so! Otherwise why would I be dreaming of the guy anyway."

"Who was it?" Bacchus asked.

"I don't know, some guy. I think I'd remember fucking him." She shook her head before looking up at Loki and adding: "You did put Laila to sleep already didn't you?"

"Like two hours ago so go ahead and talk about your man-whores all you want." The comment from the god of mischief garnered another laugh from Bacchus and a warning finger pointed at him from the captain herself. "And what did this conquest of yours say."

"I told you, I'm still not sure if I fucked him but I can't see why else there'd be a man in my dreams." She sighed and considered this for a second. "All I can remember was that he was one gorgeous man, and I don't usually go for blonds."

The comment made Loki perk up. A blond? Maybe it was only a coincidence, after all the good captain had probably never met Fandral in her life. It could have been some random Aesir, or even a stranger from between the realms. Still, _still_ , a part of him was burning with curiosity. He was concerned about what had happened in his own sleep, but why would Salome ever even dear to dream anything similar.

"Did he say anything?" Loki asked calmly, carelessly. "This blond of yours?"

"Not really, I can't really remember." She paused for a moment, lips curling as she dug up her dream to remember. "I do know that he was somewhere ritzy, golden and all nice and stuff. There was like columns all over the place and it was bright and sunny. He looked terrified the poor thing."

"Columns?" Loki asked.

"Yeah like in Asgard." She added as she looked down on the screen. "I don't think it was in Asgard though,"

"Why?"

"Because it was a dream, Loki." She said looking up. "It was just a dream."

He paused staring at her as she stared back, both of them trying to convince the other of something. For a second Loki could swear that a flash of another color glazed through Salome's golden eyes. As awful as it sounded any man could get lost in them simply because that was in their nature. They were marvelously bright, gorgeous, but disturbing in their own way. They saw too much.

" _What do you see, bridge-keeper_?" 

The words poured out of Loki's mouth for absolutely no reason, followed by a mischievous smile on his part the likes of one he would have used as a young child. Salome's face was laced with confusion for a hot second before a laugh came out of her lips, perhaps caused only by instinct to the bizarre question. How many times had he or Thor or Odin asked Heimdal that question, and how many times had Heimdal obliged with a dignified response. How many times had someone asked Salome that and she had to think about her father on the other edge of the universe. He was terribly curious just how much of Heimdal was in her.

"Who do you want to see?" She responded, turning back to the screen. What even was sitting on that bloody screen anyway? "I'm not Heimdal, I can't just see everything at once, it's not within the range of my abilities."

"So you do have abilities?" He asked, stepping forward from the metal wall on which he was leaning. 

"I can see if they are alive or dead, and the rest takes a bit more work on my part." She waved a hand at him. "I know Thor lives, I know you live, I know Heimdal lives and he knows I live, I know your father-"

"-He's not my father-"

"-Odin lives... I can see many souls in Asgard and they're all for the most part alive." Salome turned to him with a calm demeanor. "But my father knows when I peer into Asgard or anywhere for that matter, he's savvy like that."

"Can you peer into the dungeons, find me a soul there?" He asked. He wanted to see if she could search deep into the vaults of Asgards.

Salome paused before shrugging,"There's very few..." It made sense, after all Odin may decide that prisoners are beneath him. Executions seemed more likely nowadays considering the king's mental state. "There's a couple, but they're all... barely living."

"Are they tortured?" Loki asked, arms folded before them. "Can you see who it is or-"

"Hold on," She lifted a brow quickly in response to his hurrying and paused for another moment. Loki noticed something curious at this point: the colors, the shades of gold in Salome's eyes seemed to be swirling as if they were mixed in water that was being stirred. It was like the movement of a galaxy through eons, and Loki could recognize it only as the sheer ancient magic of Heimdal's lineage. It was wonderful, but not the most important thing at the moment. He knew that if Fandral was in the dungeons because of him, this would be his only way of knowing.

"Enemy soldiers." She said, "Two of those... frost giants both of them. Then there's a couple of old members of the court, in trial for treason... There's a warrior in one of the vaults-"

"Is he alive." his voice was harsh, desperate almost.

"He's injured-"

As she said this, a slam came from the front of the main deck and Salome was snapped out of her trance. Both turned to look at Bacchus, who Loki realized had been strangely silent through the entire conversation they were having. The bottle that had once been in Bacchus's hand was now thrashed on the floor, bits and pieces everywhere as deep red liquid poured down from the remains like a carnage. Salome and Loki glanced at each other for a second before turning back to the leaving conductor, who exited the room and left them with the slam of the door of his chambers like some sort of petulant child. Loki scoffed, turning from the bottle to the end of the main deck.

"Well that seemed rather unnecessary." He stated. Salome had returned to looking into the commander's screen, far from the Asgardian dungeons and with a mellow look as if the conductor had not just caused a scene before them. 

"He's like that." She stated simply. "He's not a fan of talking about dungeons and torture."

Loki lifted a brow at her, curious now. Was it a bad history? The cause of Bacchus's drinking? Perhaps there was much more there than he thought. He held no ill will to Bacchus, if it wasn't for the groping and the comments and the attitude and the binge drinking of course. Perhaps he only wanted to be the center of attention.

"Oh? Anything you can tell me about that?" He asked.

"Not without losing my conductor and possibly an arm." She said with a laugh. Loki scoffed and she turned to him, stepping away from the screen with two taps on it. "Meanwhile I'm going to bed, I have a long day tomorrow and it's late. You should get some sleep too, aren't you a dad after all? Whatever happened to sleepless nights?"

"It was worse when she was younger. As a baby she'd cry right through the night." He scratched his head. "I didn't shut eye for a year. I became used to it."

"Well that's good to hear, but some of us don't have children." She patted his arm as she began to head out. Loki noticed as she was this close to him that she looked almost elegant with her hair tied behind her, regal never, but perhaps more feminine. If he looked hard enough Raine was almost maiden-like, almost pure. He noticed then that she carried a silver necklace around her neck, one with a medal of the same material attached to the center shaped like an odd rectangle. He thought he read writing on it but she moved before he could figure it out. 

"Goodnight Captain." He said as she was behind him.

"Sweet dreams Loki boy." She responded. "Oh and Loki?"

The god turned at the captain's words and was startled to see her staring back at him with concern. 

"By the looks of it, I don't think Fandral is going to make it through the night." Her words were strange to him. It felt almost like a blow to the chest. Loki didn't know if his face showed it, but he did know that he had not responded to Salome's statement. 

"I'm sorry."

The words were honest, or at least he thought they were. He heard her step away from the main deck and leave him to his devices, staring into the wide emptiness of the galaxies before him. The Betweens were full of wonder, full of stars. He didn't know much about what lay before him in the space between the worlds, he wasn't as versed in traveling through them as Bacchus or Salome or any other smuggler. He knew of the way of the worlds though, and he knew that Thor wouldn't forgive Odin for killing one of his friends.

He knew that if Fandral died, the weight of that decision would fall hard on Odin's head. It would fall as hard as the guilt that fell on Loki's shoulders. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yall wanted a twist 'Eh? 
> 
> Fun drinking game: Take a shot when a new fandom is included in this chapter. Then take a shot for every error I made and didn't bother to fix. Then keep drinking because drinking is fun.


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